Walls
Thank you for walls,
the thin boundaries
preventing
life from entering my day.
The door to the classroom
closes,
and you are forgotten
for the most part,
but when I leave
my thoughts alone
they turn
to places I can no longer go.
So I prolong my day
with people,
only alone
to fall asleep
but inevitably
there is that moment
(those hours)
between climbing into bed
and forgetting
that belongs to you.
Poem:
This one doesn't really require any explanation. Upon looking at it again, I'm not too sure of some of the really short lines, but that might just be left over from yesterday's style change.
Observation:
I went to see "The Social Network" recently at our local discount movie theater. I mention this not because I'm intending to write a movie review, but simply to discuss my reason(s) for seeing it. I hold no delusions. I'm perfectly aware that the only reason I ever wanted to see it was because of the previews. In fact, I distinctly recall thinking, "That movie looks really bad, but I need to know what happens after that scene in the preview." You know a method is effective if it works despite its incredibly obvious nature. It's sort of like blackmail that way. They hold the rest of the movie hostage, issue you a ransom note in the preview, and to fulfill your desire you have to fork over perfectly good money. And the whole time you're thinking, "Is this really necessary?" Now, I'll admit I have left some of my metaphorical loved ones to die. I was fully intending to see movies like "Despicable Me" and "Dinner for Schmucks" even though I was pretty sure they held no value beyond a couple of forced laughs. But I just never had the heart to pay the fee required of me, and left them at the mercy of those toying with me.
But "The Social Network" was just too tempting. All of the scenes that showed Mark Zuckerberg in a supremely confident position even as he was being sued for millions of dollars, then cut out before I learned anything quite relevant just frustrated me enough to spend some money. And I was completely right. So I guess I can't be disappointed with the movie, since it did absolutely everything I was expecting. I'm now in this interesting dichotomy, where I'm a bit disappointed that it didn't do more that I was expecting, but not allowed to be disappointed because it did exactly what I knew it was going to do. There were the gratuitously underdressed girls, the beginning of the company, the computer jargon-filled phrases, and the completely unwarranted scenes included only because they were guaranteed a few laughs. All in all, I thought it was worth my time, since I saw it late at night and wasn't going to be doing much otherwise, but it's not really a movie I would recommend. Unless you've seen the previews. Then your decision to spend the money is completely warranted.
Exercise:
"Popol Vuh: Seven Random Bits"
I just pulled the Popol Vuh off the shelf and found these seven random bits:
~sweet drink!
~Jaguar
~undone
~you tricksters!
~And they remembered what had been said about the East.
~vagabonds
~corn with fish
What can you write in five minutes that incorporates all of these?
And the village was concerned about the jaguars, for they remembered well what had been said about the East and how it had been foretold that at the first sign of the large cats, ominous things were to follow. They organized a feast, inviting important members from surrounding village councils to partake in what might be the last gathering before the supernatural events overwhelmed them. They had corn with fish, potatoes, and in the center of the long, crudely cut table, a boar sat, roasted in all its glory. And the drink. Sweet drink! Mulled wine of many varieties, touches of honey, and for those who wanted, grain alcohol. They were merry in the face of unusual portents, and by the time the last vessel of wine had been emptied, they had almost put them out of mind. But in an instant, it all came undone. The table shook, the sky flashed, and a deep unease came over the crowd. All they could think of was the influence of the supernatural, and they raised their faces to the sky, crying "You tricksters!" at the gods, sure that in no time they, the chiefs of the area, would be reduced to vagabonds.
Me:
I'm just sitting here wondering how many people have realized the headings of my blog sections spell "poem." Other than that, not a lot of interesting stuff has been happening. Except, of course, for the beginning of the Australian Open. I still enjoy tennis a great deal, and I am conveniently awake for a decent amount of the live broadcast. I started tennis on a whim, for the most part. It all started at some courts near my grandma's house in Wisconsin, where my mom and I went to hit for some reason I don't remember. Well, I had seen some of my high school classmates playing on various occasions, but once I'd tried it out for a while, I began to question what about the sport was so difficult. This was at the beginning of my sophomore year. By the spring I had made the bottom of the varsity team. The next year I was near the top, and ready to work toward a state title for my senior year. I was serving at over a hundred miles and hour, and with some work on my backhand, I felt like I could make a good showing. And then it ended. As has happened with almost everything I've tried, I just lost my grasp on what was important about the sport. My period of rapid improvement had expired, and I realized that even if I did as well as I was hoping, I wouldn't be in a good position to continue playing in college. So I cut my losses, or so I told myself. Looking back, it's more obvious that I didn't like dealing with the pressure. Once I had stopped exceeding expectations and started simply meeting them, it became harder to motivate myself. It had lost its appeal.
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