Exposition

Christmas lights stay on all year on the screened-in porch, giving her safety to sit in her living room and see the outdoors through the glass door. Childhood pictures of my boyfriend's brothers and cousins are strewn about, and she wishes she saw more of them than their pictures. It's better in the summertime, when they come to swim. I would come to sit with her at the kitchen table, smoke a Virginia Slim, and discuss the neighborhood gossip. She recently recruited one of her grandsons to repaint the kitchen an Americana shade of blue, and her floor had just been redone by the insurance because of the "accidental" fire two years before. The large window next to the table allowed us to watch as the made-for-water basketball repeatedly missed the hoop, and as body slams put more of the pool water on the lawn than remained in the pool. We knew that we were different, not indulging in the sun or doting upon the things that they cared about. We learned to keep to ourselves, at the football games and weekend outings to Williamsburg. Our opinions stopped mattering awhile ago. I don't really think mine ever did.

The Past Does Not Exist

One of the first quotes from On Some Verses of Virgil really struck me because it is something that I have been dwelling on lately.
The soul craves what it has lost,
And wholly throws itself into the past.
PETRONIUS
I can't seem to live in the moment. As desperately as I try, I find myself always wishing I was somewhere that no longer exists. College is very difficult for me in this respect, people staying the same but the surroundings being unfamiliar. Comforting dorm rooms that I turned to for days on end for a whole year can quickly disappear in hours. I can return to the places but they are not there. My childish features and auburn hair of freshman year, it will never again be that healthy and my face will now look hopelessly exhausted. Dark rings under my eyes can't return to their blended creamy state. Old relationships can no longer be my solace. Listening to songs for the eighteenth time will never feel like that first brilliant burst of energy and inspiration. Today will never satisfy me.

Journey of the Mind

From September 8th Reading:
A line from pg 99's description of Petrarch's essay particularly struck me "Francesco Petrarch, climbed up a mountain in southern France simply because it was there." It reminded me of art for art's sake, which I've found really relevant in many of the readings that I've been doing in this class, and in other classes.
Petrarch took journeys of the mind and it is questioned if a journey of the mind is less significant. I find a journey of the mind to be entirely MORE significant because it uses the imagination, something intangible, something personal. Something that no one else can truly see. That is why it becomes much more fascinating to describe, because no one else can simply walk up to it and perceive it themselves. They rely solely on the person who invented it. Our minds are really all that we know. Even with material journeys, they don't exist to us unless we see or hear about them. I've been wondering for quite awhile about the mind and existence. Is something there just because we think it? Do we invent everything that we see? Nothing exists to US unless we are aware of it. I could talk in circles for much longer but I think I'll just let you come to your own conclusions.

5 Lines that Describe This Room

1. Bold clock on a bland wall ticking slowly
2. Elongated grey tables pushed harshly together
3. Cluttered bouts of information scattering the walls
4. Sharp molding framing what was once an entrance way
5. Open windows revealing clangs of what we can't see

I VIOLENTLY HATE WHEN PEOPLE WALK IN AND TURN ON ALL THE LIGHTS
man it sure is bright in here

1. Movie posters desperately trying to cover the stark white
2. Soft black shag rug hiding ant surprises
3. Further swimming in circles amidst Buddha
4. Large air conditioning structure emitting dripping noises throughout the night
5. Black and white pillows promote contrast


I am highly concerned that I have been poisoned due to my conspiracy theories. If I die, know that this message holds the truth.