Sunday, October 24, 2010

My Head is Not Working

Someone tell the doctor. My head is not working,
I yawn and yawn all day until my cheeks have stretched themselves silly,
My eyes tear after this strenuous activity,
And I lack much of any ability to focus or concentrate,
As of now, I am scatter-brained to the fullest, and sane to the least,
I do though have a stringent desire to do well, to create and think in my less than ideal state,
But whenever I make any attempt, my efforts prove fruitless.
It is a tragedy.
When the thinking man wants to think, he is tired.
But when the thinking man has already thought, or allowed his thoughts to pass, he partakes in more mindless, dare I say "mortal", "hedonistic" activities that only mere humans would consider enjoyable, and academics would consider "bourgeois".
Now after committing this nonsensical expression to blog format, I am somewhat content.
At least more content than I was a few minutes prior.
Now, I think I should heed my body's way of saying "you're tired, go to sleep!"

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

A Personal Flaw

Whenever I write, a paper for school, a journal entry, or a blog hosted right here or on, or on, I typically will congratulate myself. This is to my detriment as a writer because while it's all well and good to feel confident in myself as a writer, I need to be steadfast, constantlly striving, never satisfied and always working perpetually to a static goal of an asymntotally flawless piece, article, entry, or blog.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Homecoming 2010

Homecoming this year was a refreshing one. I came with a date that I am actually rather fond of, and as for all of the otherwise awkward customs – corsage, pictures, dinner, the dance itself, and the after party – they went exceedingly well. Yet for all intents and purposes, I could very vaguely label the dance as “fun”, it certainly wasn't anywhere near ideal. The music was by-the-numbers, mainstream, top-10 garbage that had largely been recycled from last year’s dance. The Black Eyed Peas’ “I Gotta Feeling” had all the attendants jumping for joy, and singing along to the anthem’s ubiquitous lyrics. Only for me, as a senior, it could have very well been the third dance at Saint Ignatius that featured such a track, so inevitably, the song’s explosiveness was mitigated by a power of ten for me. I emptily gestured as if I was filled with the energy that the music typically will infuse in its listeners, exhaustedly sang along, and motioned to be conscious during the annoying words that continue to echo through the drums of my ears as of this writing. I understand many a freshman had their first dance that night, but I think sometimes school dances are better served searching for more indie, less widely-known music, chosen for its quality, rather than its recognition or notoriety.