I am all worried over the messiness of studiousness/non-studiousness, my lack of focus. I wish I could discipline myself but all I want is to lie around and watch PBS. There was a great American Experience episode on American whaling and Moby Dick, etc. Really eerie, interesting stuff. here is a sloppy poem. Tomorrow morning I take a test and go to classes and rehearsal and hope to God I can get the grades and get out of here. I think when I am in the same place too long I go crazy. Here. Back home. Anywhere. I need travel. I need stretching. Maybe all the moving around and driving across country as a kid impacted me more than you'd think. blah blah blah here's a bad poem for the void.
you must pardon me, please, if you please
if it pleases you to pardon me, you must
even if it doesn’t please you, I ask you to forgive me,
have mercy for a person who fumbles in the dark and falls down, shakily, wearily, with a headache, and a heart all pangy and beating like birdwings flapping flapping flapping on
do you ever stop and marvel at your heart? it doesn’t get to rest….all your life it beats and ticks like a clock, counting and measuring the breaths that come in and go out, the pain and the joy, the moments of silent wonder, of exasperated loneliness, of vapid despair, of holy loving lovely love, of happiness, of worry
poor old heart…..I don’t even thank you in the morning when I wake up. you kept me going all night long when I was off dreaming. you didn’t have to…something could’ve stopped you. you could’ve gotten tired, gotten bored and said to hell with this body, this soul….you didn’t. and you beat, you beat, you beat
unrelated sidenote: Jerry Maguire would only be an okay movie if it weren't for Cuba Gooding Jr. and Regina King. Just a thought.