didn't anybody tell her, didn't anybody see?
01.30.03 @ 2:13 p.m.
At the risk of looking like I'm trying to sound poetic, I let myself get caught in the rain today and I enjoyed it. A soft rain that's almost mist and beaded on my eyelashes and my hair.
Okay, so maybe I am in a weird blissful haze, the sort that lends itself to semi-poetic expressions of beauty.
So sue me.
It was lovely, walking down thirteenth street with my face turned up towards the sky (my glasses were in my pocket because one of the more irritating things in life is rain on glasses) and feeling the drops hit me and warm rivulets run down my face from my hair amongst all the people scurrying to class as quickly as possible with their hoods and umbrellas. It was really only boys with short hair that I saw without umbrellas or some sort of rain protection.
Normally I hate getting wet, but I don't dislike the rain (or I'd hate living where I do) so long as I'm not out in it. But today, I don't know why I wasn't at all upset when I came out of History discussion section into the rain. It's like something inside me snapped (in a good way, a block being cleared, a wall falling down), but I don't know when. All of a sudden I'm fascinated by this Martin Luther essay (even though I still give no spiritual credit to any of it's assertions) and I'm taking more notes in history than I ever have before. Suddenly I'm able to get engaged in something the way I got engaged in Coriolanus or Titus Andronicus. Suddenly I care and I want to write essays where I pick at the author and argue against his case.
Maybe I've been under some kind of acedemic ennui. I don't care about Italian, Anthropology bores me, and I don't listen to history lectures. Rock History interests me, but I guess it just doesn't engage me because there isn't anything for me to disagree with or really analyze... I knew most of the stuff we learned about the Who and I'm pleased with finding out more about Cream and Zeppelin and Hendrix and Joplin, but there isn't a lot of space for passion, which is a hard thing to say when I love music as much as I do. Part of the rainy day bliss I just experienced was influenced by listening to Our Love Was and I Can See For Miles while I walked and just took in the world around me. My mind wasn't anywhere except what I saw around me and the music being pumped into my ears.
The worst thing is that I think this is only a break from the crushing ennui of school. I can feel it lurking behind me, just waiting for me to pick up an Anthropology book so I can be shoved off this peak where I can see and enjoy back into a place where I procrastinate, don't care, and look for any means to escape the crushing monotany of my own life. I hate that I don't have anything to care about here. Everything except the 'listen and memorize' portions of my brain feel like they're wasting away and my god, the mere confrontation of all this is making me cry. Not much, but a little. I don't want to, and so I'm keeping it in, which makes my throat ache.
It's been a good day. I finished the first Rock and Roll test today, which was fairly easy but I forgot to study chart positions of Hendrix and Joplin albums, so I got at least two problems wrong. I got to come back to the dorms, take a longish shower and sleep for a full hour before I had to go to Italian. Italian was neither good nor bad. I wasn't put on the spot and therefore didn't have to confront my own ignorance in front of the class, but I didn't do much of the review we were doing. And I got a lot of what I did do wrong. I need to study pronouns.
Just talking about schoolwork makes me feel the emotional lassitude creeping back up on me, which is one of the most depressing things ever. I had this emotional moment in the sun and the clouds are gathering again.
Where I was going with all that mindless recitation of my day was that on my way back from Italian, I walked behind a guy wearing a Red Robot sweatshirt. I thought this was another one of those odd universal convergance/coincidence things, that just after I discover explodingdog and Red Robot, I see a guy wandering campus in a Red Robot sweatshirt. I wanted to say something to him but he was walking too fast.
I admired it from afar, like I do many things and felt cheered by it.
On my way to History, I had one of those moments where what you're listening to becomes the soundtrack to life. I emerged from under the EMU (the student union, which you have through a courtyard and under part of the building to get past) into the ampitheatre full of scurrying people to have Keith Moon start shouting in my ear:
Everything they've seen, you have seen
Everywhere they've been, you have been
Everything they've done, you have been and done already...
It seemed like a curiously nice sentiment for the moment.
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
