Please turn down your awful music. If I have to hear that horrid WOOHOO song one more time, I will snap and bludgeon you with my tripod.
Lots of love,
Kat
Note: The song referred to is NOT “Song 2,” which is a fun song loved by even music snobs like me.
This morning, my biology professor taught us about DNA with a plastic tiara on her head. She found it inside her podium and decided to put it on.
I want to be her when I grow up.
On a bed too small for
a quarrelling couple
we lay silent,
hands guiltily clasped.
In the morning
you will go,
I know,
and then
my bed will be too big.
But for now
keep your hand here beside me
until tomorrow’s sun
comes to cleave us.
Tomorrow is someone else’s life.
My darling,
I will wait for you to drip
feather-gentle
from my thoughts.
I will remain
still
here
quiet
covered in pieces of sky.
The past few days have been appropriately rainy. (There’s your narrow example of a pathetic fallacy, Dave.) People keep asking me how I’m doing, and I give them all more or less the same response: I’m sad but dealing. I don’t have much to add to that here — I’m sad about things, but I really think it’s for the best, for both of us.
I’ve been writing a little more, photographing a little less. Getting worried about where I’ll take pictures when I go home next month.
After my last post, I decided to give one a shot just for kicks. Spring is on my brain so I wrote about crocuses. Other things are on my brain too and they probably found their way in.
- - -
Why reach your thin and hopeful fingers up
To peep above the comforting brown earth?
No gentle hands will your bright blossoms cup;
No eyes yet gawk and marvel at your birth,
But stubbornly you push to reach the sun.
Sweet crocus, do you never worry that
Before your delicate unfurling’s done,
The frost will creep night-soft and murder what
Your light green toils strove thus far to get?
O crocus, for the sake of human spring,
Do hide beneath your blanket warm and wet
Until thief Winter ends its spiteful sting.
Yet rise you will, until at last I know
Your slender strength outlasts the cruellest foe.
On brownest grass, the matted leaves lay blanketing
Our last-year lawn, whose green we don’t remember now
While flowers dare to dream of bright tomorrows, and
Now peep like finger-submarines below.
…even if we can’t see it yet.
I want to create but I dunno what to make, other than essays for school… so here is a bit of something I wrote last year and tweaked tonight. I’m sad to say I haven’t come very far in the way of poetry since then — rhyme schemes are still my Achilles’ heel. I’m trying, though. I would really like to be able to write a sonnet one day. I know, I know, I want it all.
I took this several days ago without realizing how well it could represent one take on a breakup: bitterly turning away from something great even though you obviously need it. “Why” is not for the photographer to answer.
As of today, I am single.
FAQ
Q: Who did it?
A: Me, so go easy on the condolences.
Q: Was it bad?
A: Yes.
Q: Was it really horrible?
A: No.
Q: Do you miss him?
A: Yes.
Q: Is this for the best?
A: I think so and I hope so.
Q: Are you a cynical monster for writing this way?
A: Probably.
Thank you, floormates, for finally introducing me to the song “99 Problems (But a Bitch Ain’t One)”. I had feared my life would not be complete without that experience. Thank you, as well, for the all-expense-paid trip down memory lane with the delightful “Mmmbop”. But allow me to gently inform you that blasting those rich melodies at a volume which requires me to fear for my eardrums’ safety and wear earplugs when I step out into the hallway is not strictly necessary for my enlightenment.
Your friend,
Kat
You know you’ve been on the internet too much when…
…your bank statement list a charge for LASER PRN and the first thing you think is what the hell is laser porn and when did I buy that?
Finally got around to watching Gladiator
MAXIMUS! *sobs*
It was amazing, of course.
Just got an email. Sadface.
A proper one that begins in the morning, unlike yesterday when it started at 2:30pm.
Now what to do with all this time?
I believe a shower is in order, to start.
Have I mentioned this story on my blog yet? I added about 900 words tonight. It’s being irregularly updated as a Lemonfingers notebook entry until I decide what to do about chapter breaks.