Individual feelings stretch and reverberate, stick and remain stuck,
and eternally weave, weave, weave a web of experience that translates
to ‘life.’ These entries have become increasingly difficult to write.
The last few were written under pressure from an ascending
self-consciousness and self-imposed obligation to build on all that’s
previously been said. As if there were continuity, consistency,
meaning and making sense. These trappings must be cast off once and
for all.
What strange, half-endearing, flighty words have begun my latest
string of tangential blog entries? Dangerous musings, for a newspaper
reporter in the pursuit of objectivity? Perhaps. This was a concern
from Week 1. So I’ve held back, restrained a lot and maybe that’s
necessary. Mike has said time and again (and not just to me) that if
you want to say whatever you want, then get your own personal blog.
This hasn’t appealed to me because the fun of this project is that
there are limitations and boundaries, and it’s fun to work within
them. I don’t need another journal anyway.
Describing things can make them seem more complicated. Looking back,
perhaps I’ve been making that mistake. I’ve contradicted what I’ve said
a thousand times already, because I don’t really stick to, or always
agree with what I say in hindsight. I don’t know if this an apology,
and it’s always perplexed me whether I should apologize for what I say.
As always, there are exceptions, but generally? I mean, what’s up with
this whole countenance thing? I want to say what you see is what you
get, but it’s lacking something. Romantically, it’s lacking the idea
that there’s something “more.” So I somehow… write it up? In thought
through writing? Shoot, I lost control of the line of questioning, and
now all the questions are coming up against big brick walls. Just to
conclude in some way: I like playing around with words, and this
renders
all these ideas as experiments.
This term (or whatever I arbitrary time division I choose to summon)
has been educational, and being able to say that right when it’s
happening is some kind of big step for me. Probably not in the sense
that the academic system expects of me, but maybe even a little of
that,
too. There’s just been a lot of different experiences, new and old, or
remembered. A lot of social circles and new combinations of people.
Different worlds and different hats.
The spring break is not here, but when it is, I want to start
sitting down, and breathing and preparing for the next onslaught of
tasks. And learn how to bring what’s important to me in and through the
battlefield of busyness and never leave it or them behind. Bright and
early next term…