(no subject)
it recurs, the question (why go on?). i have believed in beauty. i have believed in nothing. sometimes clarity is the problem: the beauties of the world are arbitrary. the beauties of the world are defining. i was not born to it and have known this, and still i have had the ridiculous ambition to make things. it probably would have been better never to have wanted to be anything at all -- for all that i have tried to do, i am in exactly the position i would occupy had i done nothing at all -- and sometimes the long long stretches of seeming to do nothing are worse than real immobility.
i went to a talk on thursday on korean poetry. at the reception after, i blurted out in passing to one of the faculty, "did you try to write one?" (i had.) (tried, that is, to write in one of the forms discussed) of course he had no idea who i was but tried to be nice. he asked me what i did. my hand, clutching a plastic cup of orange juice, shook uncontrollably. my eyes filled with tears. how could i say i was nothing at all? (some days i can be blithe about it, but ultimately i do believe we are what we do) "never mind -- i see you have a notebook with you, and you write in it," he said hurriedly. it was awful. no wonder no one can stand me.
i wish i enjoyed drinking.
i went to a talk on thursday on korean poetry. at the reception after, i blurted out in passing to one of the faculty, "did you try to write one?" (i had.) (tried, that is, to write in one of the forms discussed) of course he had no idea who i was but tried to be nice. he asked me what i did. my hand, clutching a plastic cup of orange juice, shook uncontrollably. my eyes filled with tears. how could i say i was nothing at all? (some days i can be blithe about it, but ultimately i do believe we are what we do) "never mind -- i see you have a notebook with you, and you write in it," he said hurriedly. it was awful. no wonder no one can stand me.
i wish i enjoyed drinking.