FINALS SEASON HAS BEGUN.
After Christmas caroling on Friday, choir is done for the semester. Yesterday I had my last creative writing tutorial of my undergraduate career. And today I give a presentation in one class and turn in my first term paper in another.
I know I’ve been super (and probably annoyingly) sentimental about everything this semester, but like, with the arrival of finals, my sentimentality has worn thin. There is just no way to paint this time of the semester rose-colored.
Finals. Universally. Suck.
While I’m waiting out the storm of term papers, presentations, and (thank God they’re take-home) exams, though, this week’s Wordy Wednesday is a poem.
This is kind of a weird one, but I was searching through old documents on my computer while procrastinating from that paper due today, and I came across this poem from 2011. It’s a bunch of lines I’d cut from novels, short stories, memoirs, blog posts, AP lit papers, etc. over the course of a couple weeks at the end of first semester my senior year of high school.
It kind of works as overheard poetry, except that everything overheard was, you know, coming out of my brain.
More Than Just a Memory
because though I could imagine
did you notice
to catch my attention?
There was an unexplainable twist in my stomach, a drynes in my mouth.
She would never see me graduate, fall in love, fulfill my dreams.
There was an unexplainable knot in stomach, a dryness in my mouth.
Directly across the hall a TV blared a commercial for some Disney Channel show, but I don’t remember
So as a brand new blogger, I feel the need to introduce myself to whoever out there might be reading
— only to realize that he did hear me, he just didn’t want to respond.
I’m nothing more than what you already know, a perception of yourself.
Silence save the heart monitor.
Silence save for the heart monitor.
I try to repeat, but it occurs to me, after a very delayed moment, that I’m not coming.
Large, blue tongues of flame that reach for the sky, devour the buildings.
Do you become aware of the outside world… Your friend Joshua.
Of the human perception of time and distance.
I moisten my tongue, pass it over my chapped lips.
Your mind controls this place, which means that you control what goes on within it.”
This is all my subconscious.
Not at all.
The wind sifts through my chestnut ponytail, shifting across my shoulders and making me shiver.
Even my little brother cannot resist to stare.
Watch this!” and pulling himself out of the pool, running past me towards the deep end.
“It was either that or leave you to burn.”
Fighting and wars were totally her thing.
As with everything, the aliens’ idea of gender really differs from Earth’s binary two gender system.
A hero is someone who finds a way to distinguish himself above all others; to be free of the usual juris
Themen who fight wars search for glory and honor for themselves, not for their country as portraye
It was obvious she was trying to get the class laughing, to back her like they usually did, but it wasn’t
Thanks for reading!