sometimes i hate this school.
Sep. 26th, 2000 02:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elvendollhaving to switch labs 3 times in less then a half hour sucked.
especially as it means logging out of everything and then logging back in again : /
i'm not even bothering with quickbuddy for the moment (sorry kir!)
...and i was actually in a better mood for a while, too...
...of course i can already hear my mom's voice in my head - 'if you didn't let things anger you so easily you'd be in an ok mood'
*sigh*
and funny how all through class i was twitching for a keyboard, wanted to write so much, and now its all gone poof : (
but i am going to try and stick ot schedule *stomp*
first i was going to put in a quote :
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower
We shall grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind
William Wordsworth
...its been playing in my head for a good portion of the day...
...it was actually triggered by a reference to Whitman in class - i think just by the alliterating names.
and it seems like i'm not the only one out of the class with their head too far up their ass to get into Hart Crane - and that makes me feel a bit better...
and the older woman in our class who keeps arguing with the professor about how some imagery or dialogue inthe poetry is unrealistic is just amusing me, though i do think i'd feel different if i wasn't all the way accross the room from her : )
its just so funny because she'll get stuck on a line or two and go off about how it doesn't make sense and would never happen! ...and never mind that i don't see the passages as being unrealistic, there's also somehting to be said for creative freedom, damnit!
...and its funny, because i guess the professor doesn't find it appropriate to tellt he lady that (she tries to show her other perspectives rather then saying somehting that could be equated with 'you're wrong') but she can't seem to help making faces towards the other half of the room when the lady is talking...
i think maybe if the lady wasn't so damn rediculous, and the professor wasn't so patient to her i'd find it a bit wrong, but as it is, its just plain amusing...
i also started writing a poem in class, though i am sure it needs more fine tuning...
this would be another thank you to my mother, as she asked me this morning what i've written lately, along with mirroring my recent concentration on the effects of the passing of time...
Same street, two nights
One year apart.
Black twists of staircase
Absorbed into the world we took to be ours,
Now palpitating isolation.
The reels inside my eyelids show
A playful nature to the curves
But this night it is as if
My legs have missions of their own.
They tug along the torso to proceed
And find the niche this night will bring
Along the skyline shown atop the hill.
...its been a while since i've written, too...
especially as it means logging out of everything and then logging back in again : /
i'm not even bothering with quickbuddy for the moment (sorry kir!)
...and i was actually in a better mood for a while, too...
...of course i can already hear my mom's voice in my head - 'if you didn't let things anger you so easily you'd be in an ok mood'
*sigh*
and funny how all through class i was twitching for a keyboard, wanted to write so much, and now its all gone poof : (
but i am going to try and stick ot schedule *stomp*
first i was going to put in a quote :
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower
We shall grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind
William Wordsworth
...its been playing in my head for a good portion of the day...
...it was actually triggered by a reference to Whitman in class - i think just by the alliterating names.
and it seems like i'm not the only one out of the class with their head too far up their ass to get into Hart Crane - and that makes me feel a bit better...
and the older woman in our class who keeps arguing with the professor about how some imagery or dialogue inthe poetry is unrealistic is just amusing me, though i do think i'd feel different if i wasn't all the way accross the room from her : )
its just so funny because she'll get stuck on a line or two and go off about how it doesn't make sense and would never happen! ...and never mind that i don't see the passages as being unrealistic, there's also somehting to be said for creative freedom, damnit!
...and its funny, because i guess the professor doesn't find it appropriate to tellt he lady that (she tries to show her other perspectives rather then saying somehting that could be equated with 'you're wrong') but she can't seem to help making faces towards the other half of the room when the lady is talking...
i think maybe if the lady wasn't so damn rediculous, and the professor wasn't so patient to her i'd find it a bit wrong, but as it is, its just plain amusing...
i also started writing a poem in class, though i am sure it needs more fine tuning...
this would be another thank you to my mother, as she asked me this morning what i've written lately, along with mirroring my recent concentration on the effects of the passing of time...
Same street, two nights
One year apart.
Black twists of staircase
Absorbed into the world we took to be ours,
Now palpitating isolation.
The reels inside my eyelids show
A playful nature to the curves
But this night it is as if
My legs have missions of their own.
They tug along the torso to proceed
And find the niche this night will bring
Along the skyline shown atop the hill.
...its been a while since i've written, too...
