Just some stuff

spilt milk

I was always sure
Hers would be the next call
Delayed with some excuse
Errands, car trouble,
Dead phone

I was always hers
Until that last call
The one that meant no more
Calls were coming,
The one that ripped
The bowl of cereal
From my hands
And slammed it
On the laminated floor
Cornflakes floating
Like life rafts
On the spreading sea of milk
Blueberry islands
And porcelain-piece
Prominences projecting
Into the whiteness
As it made its way
Under the refrigerator

And I sank down and sat
Right in it
My slippered feet sliding
A bit as I splotched down
The wave of milk rolled
Blueberry islands in arcs
As the drips landed
Clear salt water
Homogenizing quickly
As it rippled into spilt milk.

Poem:
I decided to try mentally putting myself in other situations in an effort to think about how I would react to various things. I seem to be lacking most of the traumatic experiences that form staples in the lives of many writers, so this was my attempt at imagination. I was watching tv and saw a girl whose fiancé was killed in a car crash, and I wondered what I would do with a phone call of that magnitude. I thought of not hearing from someone you were expecting to, only to receive that sort of news. And this is what I came up with as an in-the-moment sort of scene. I'm still completely unsure how I would actually react. I think it would take quite a bit longer for it to actually sink in, though. But this just seemed fitting.

Observation:
You know how movies are always predictable? The good guys win, happily ever after, that sort of stuff? Well I watched "The English Patient" and "Biutiful" on consecutive nights, and that was about enough to dispel that notion for a while. Oh boy were those movies depressing. At least the former had a plot and a story to it, though. Biutiful was just an exercise in futility. Watching some guy try to do what he can with what he has, only to have it all fall apart as he is ripped to pieces by cancer was not what I was hoping for when I sat down to watch. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that it was a foreign film, but I just wasn't ready for any of it. Of course, the fact that it was all subtitled made it a bit easier to ignore the emotions that were going on, so at least it didn't hit me with quite the force of a movie in English.
I don't usually get sucked in to movies. I guess I have a hard time imagining what the characters might be thinking or experiencing, or maybe it's just too easy to remember it's all just a movie, but for some reason that didn't happen with "The English Patient." I don't think the acting was all that incredible, really, but for some reason, I just couldn't prevent myself from feeling a crazy amount of emotion during that movie. I guess it's designed to do that, but hey, it succeeded. I'm sure glad the whole tragedy as a popular Hollywood genre hasn't gained more momentum. Especially because it's not always easy to tell that a movie is going to be sad. Based on the descriptions I received for these movies, I had an idea they weren't cheerful, but nothing prepared me for the all-out depression they conveyed. So if more movies hit theaters with trailers that left the whole tragedy thing ambiguous, I'm sure I would wind up mistakenly going to one when I wasn't prepared for it, and who knows what that might lead to. Ice cream could vanish from the Ames area, a chocolate shortage could strike, and my snores from excessive nap times could prove most annoying.

Exercise:
Let me preface this prompt by saying I have no idea what I was thinking when I chose it other than, "that's odd."

In 250 words, write from the point of view of a strand of hair

Today was not a good hair day. Oh sure, the guy with the scissors didn't seem to mind the outcome, but as far as Claudio was concerned, today was a disaster. Not only had he been forced to watch as some of his closest friends we hacked to bits, but, even having avoided the scissors (at least for now, though the first post-haircut shower might reveal his rebellion), there was nothing he could do about the gel. It wasn't so bad at first. Certainly it was no worse than the normal pain of being forcibly separated from his family and friends by a long-toothed comb. But then it started to set in. The wind rushing past ceased to have any effect, and Claudio, suddenly deprived of his swaying, felt the true meaning of loneliness. His friends were beneath him, almost too short to notice, and rather than leaving him free to feel the full measure of the glorious wind, the guy had deprived him of movement, locking him in a layer of clear solidity to watch as his compatriots floundered below. Obviously there was nothing he could do. Any sort of rebellion took thousands of allies, and usually an entire night of planning. Oh sure, there was the sudden uprising they had pulled off with only an hour's prep time, but that had been aided by a shower and an untimely nap. Claudio was helpless.

Me:
As is probably evident, I made time to blog today. I also had a great conversation with my mom at work about quite a variety of things. As a result, I think I have come to the conclusion that it's worth pursuing writing a bit further. It occurred to me that between the two blogs I've written, I have enough words to have turned out a book. And while I've been rejected from all the writing schools I've applied to, I think it's still worth a shot. And I think having this time away from writing has been a good thing. I've started thinking "creatively" again recently, and while college classes were really interesting and a great way to force myself to write, the break I have had has been welcome too. So I'll start carrying around my notebook again, and we'll see what comes of it. The exercise section of my blog might be commandeered for brief sections of pieces, but in all likelihood, I'll wait until something is completed before letting anyone know. The only impact this might have as far as this blog is concerned is that I might update a bit less frequently, or if not, I might just include whatever I've written that day, which would depart from the whole four-section thing I have going.