about this time of year that always makes me so .. slow. Sad is such a clinical word now, it should be all capitals and double d's and such. Just that feeling that I can't say that I try too hard to push away, I leave the sheets too long from the wash, the dishes too long from the sink. I have glasses of water everywhere and they all taste like nickles and are always colder and more pleasant.. and thereby disappointing.. than I thought they'd be. Everything gets covered with dust and such and it gets in my eyes at night when I can't sleep. I have to say parts of me enjoy it, don't want it to dissipate and be replaced by contentedness or some medicated okay-ness.
I read that I am privileged. Funny yes? I don't know why it bothered me, except that they writer seemed to offer such disdain at my luck and fortune of birth and work and ethic, to laud so much experience on not being privileged. It is as though privilege should automatically bring such happiness and offer us a get out of jail/life/experience free card. It made me laugh. I have the best of both worlds, experiences I always want to offer but are dismissed out of hand because I didn't have to have a student loan.
I have to say, contact with S. has left me confused and somewhat enlightened. It is funnier still reading his blog, knowing are that chances are he'll read this - what a silly world talking to others to space to nothing to talk to each other, but actually at each other. Like Nin in Under a Glass Bell, insisting on shouting at each other across rooms and doors and disgusted with the actual presence of each other. I was always confused at how it ended, now I know it was a whimsy and affliction of irrationality and silence that is so common to me and known to most, deliberately withheld knowledge that led to a failed test. What excitement it is to watch somebody fail and do your job for you, such success. *shrug*
I wonder if I ever was myself with him, or even here in blogland, yet enamored and still the distant and cold person I thought he always wanted me to be, or thought I always was, or thought he liked before and I was too surprised with the changes in myself to keep them in front of him?
Oh damn I hate this time of year. With the melancholy and SADD it brings up the memories of those I loath to remember the most.
I read that I am privileged. Funny yes? I don't know why it bothered me, except that they writer seemed to offer such disdain at my luck and fortune of birth and work and ethic, to laud so much experience on not being privileged. It is as though privilege should automatically bring such happiness and offer us a get out of jail/life/experience free card. It made me laugh. I have the best of both worlds, experiences I always want to offer but are dismissed out of hand because I didn't have to have a student loan.
I have to say, contact with S. has left me confused and somewhat enlightened. It is funnier still reading his blog, knowing are that chances are he'll read this - what a silly world talking to others to space to nothing to talk to each other, but actually at each other. Like Nin in Under a Glass Bell, insisting on shouting at each other across rooms and doors and disgusted with the actual presence of each other. I was always confused at how it ended, now I know it was a whimsy and affliction of irrationality and silence that is so common to me and known to most, deliberately withheld knowledge that led to a failed test. What excitement it is to watch somebody fail and do your job for you, such success. *shrug*
I wonder if I ever was myself with him, or even here in blogland, yet enamored and still the distant and cold person I thought he always wanted me to be, or thought I always was, or thought he liked before and I was too surprised with the changes in myself to keep them in front of him?
Oh damn I hate this time of year. With the melancholy and SADD it brings up the memories of those I loath to remember the most.
2 comments:
My darling....I am sending you the men in our family. They will baby you and help you pack. In one week you will be in the sunshine and it will light up all your dreary places on the inside. You will work, read for enjoyment and start to wish you were back in school. I love you. Mom xxoo
I have been reading your blog for quite some time now, and I am curious to know if you are going to be working way up in Northern Alberta in the bush again this summer?
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