The previous blog post was something that I had written up a while ago but forgot about posting.
Obviously I've been doing a bad job lately of keeping up with blogging. I'm just not a very introspective person. So sue me. The most introspection I've done recently was writing a "story" at a coffee shop last Thursday night. But it'll stay in its notebook because it's not fiction enough. I wrote it, got it out, but it's too personal for public consumption. But of course, like all the things I write, I think it's pretty good :)
I always feel like blogging late at night when I should be sleeping. Some nights I just don't feel like I want them to end, even though nothing is going on, it's appealing to see the night stretch out in front of you and not think about what's coming up next.
Why Fight?
There are times where
You open your mouth
Fear & Rage Pour Out
But they're deaf and blind
There's no point.
You grip that
hold on tight
and bleed
staggering up
standing tall
but the weight of their
ignorance crushes
like ice
cold and unyielding.
Should you wait
forgive but not forget
save it up
for the perfect moment?
No.
Life is uncertain
Life is short
No one will speak up
No one cares.
Struggle against
Be strong
It's one step
But it's the way forward.
Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poems. Show all posts
July 31, 2013
May 1, 2013
A Poem for Me
You
don't do enoughly)
(If)Repeat:
My interests
Me
My wants
Me
(Then)Connections.
April 29, 2013
139 "Friends"
Quick check-in on my goals for the year:
1. Play morestory gaming tabletop games.
1. Play more
I got to go to some Saturday story gaming and play Metrofinál, which I've been wanting to play for over a year now and playtest a new story game about the garden of Eden. I think it's far enough along in the year to expand this goal to include all tabletop games.
2. Taking hip hop classes Run a 5K.
The last four set of hip hop classes didn't go as well as the first set...I only went to one class. However, I've decided to take up doing 5Ks and am doing a training program! So I'm also going to modify this one as well. I'm not going to change it to "exercise more" because it's too vague. If I can get in some pull ups along with my running, great, but that's not the goal.
The last four set of hip hop classes didn't go as well as the first set...I only went to one class. However, I've decided to take up doing 5Ks and am doing a training program! So I'm also going to modify this one as well. I'm not going to change it to "exercise more" because it's too vague. If I can get in some pull ups along with my running, great, but that's not the goal.
3. Going camping.
No progress on this one. I went to Antigua and they had lots of mosquitoes. It's starting to get warmer though, so I'm expecting to be able to go camping a lot more.
4. Doing the dishes after I make them dirty.
I have my pot and steamer in the sink right, but I think as long as I do them before I go to bed, it'll be fine. I think this will be more of a challenge once I move and we start cooking more.
5. Getting rid of stuff.
I'm pretty much going to be forced to get rid of things here soon, but packing up what I definitely want to keep still hasn't happened yet. I don't feel especially unmotivated to do it, but I haven't done any sorting yet either. I think the sheer mountain of a task that is going through all of the things that I've acquired throughout my life so far and taking less than half is pretty daunting. I have gotten rid of a lot of clothes and dishes so far though.
6. Playing more video games.
I've been pretty unsuccessful in this, I was going to play more Walking Dead tonight but ended up writing this blog instead. I'm also at this exact moment coordinating with W on playing Borderlands 2 next week.7. Blogging more.
8. Being less jaded.
Related to the previous one, I fell out of writing poetry at some point in college, I'm not sure why anymore, but the sense that it was silly nonsense that stuck-up people wrote to be obtuse was kind of how I felt. But I've always loved e.e. cummings poems. The playfulness, the breaking of all the rules, those aspects of poetry appeal to me. And who am I to judge someone's creative outlet?
I feel like I'm in a holding pattern right now. I have this looming sense that I should be getting ready to move and am trying to spend more time at home to do whatever tasks that come with that, but so far, haven't actually done much that feels "move-y".
I've been burning off most of my moodiness with the running (though I think I'm going to need to start doing "real" runs outside at least once a week or so) but have been losing some sleep. Not because I have a hard time falling asleep, but because I've taken to lying awake, mulling over my life before I'm finally too tired to keep on thinking.
My life is full of people. Awesome and interesting people. And I count myself lucky to be included in the circles of these people. I'm constantly surprised by the insights that my friends have about me. Apparently it doesn't take long or much to realize certain truths if you start hanging out with me. Like the fact that I have a mild competitive streak. That I can be reckless. That I'm blunt, sometimes to the point of being cruel. And that I like being on the go and going to weird events, but that if I really like you, I will make time for you. Does that make me loyal? Or just good at managing my time?
Either way, I'm on the cusp of meeting a lot more people that don't fall into any of my current circles, and I'll have to think carefully if I want to spend more energy trying to merge circles, or if it's fine to naturally segregate. Mostly, I wish all of my friends got along and that way, I could hang out with everyone all the time. But alas, most activities cannot handle more than six or so people, and often even less. If everyone I knew wanted to do everything that I wanted to do, this would be a problem, but luckily, everyone has their own lives and can't be bothered to let me dictate their free time, as delicious as that would be.
Related to the previous one, I fell out of writing poetry at some point in college, I'm not sure why anymore, but the sense that it was silly nonsense that stuck-up people wrote to be obtuse was kind of how I felt. But I've always loved e.e. cummings poems. The playfulness, the breaking of all the rules, those aspects of poetry appeal to me. And who am I to judge someone's creative outlet?
I feel like I'm in a holding pattern right now. I have this looming sense that I should be getting ready to move and am trying to spend more time at home to do whatever tasks that come with that, but so far, haven't actually done much that feels "move-y".
I've been burning off most of my moodiness with the running (though I think I'm going to need to start doing "real" runs outside at least once a week or so) but have been losing some sleep. Not because I have a hard time falling asleep, but because I've taken to lying awake, mulling over my life before I'm finally too tired to keep on thinking.
My life is full of people. Awesome and interesting people. And I count myself lucky to be included in the circles of these people. I'm constantly surprised by the insights that my friends have about me. Apparently it doesn't take long or much to realize certain truths if you start hanging out with me. Like the fact that I have a mild competitive streak. That I can be reckless. That I'm blunt, sometimes to the point of being cruel. And that I like being on the go and going to weird events, but that if I really like you, I will make time for you. Does that make me loyal? Or just good at managing my time?
Either way, I'm on the cusp of meeting a lot more people that don't fall into any of my current circles, and I'll have to think carefully if I want to spend more energy trying to merge circles, or if it's fine to naturally segregate. Mostly, I wish all of my friends got along and that way, I could hang out with everyone all the time. But alas, most activities cannot handle more than six or so people, and often even less. If everyone I knew wanted to do everything that I wanted to do, this would be a problem, but luckily, everyone has their own lives and can't be bothered to let me dictate their free time, as delicious as that would be.
July 9, 2008
TV Series Review #1: Band of Brothers
7/8 Band of Brothers - Follows Easy Company, the US Army 101st Airborne division, and their mission in WWII Europe.Zach, Ben, and I finally finished watching Band of Brothers last night. Probably because as TV series go, it's pretty short. Sure the episodes are an hour or so long each, but there's only 10 of them.
So, to sum up the series in one word: Intense. Especially the initial foray into the war, which in retrospect, is really perfect because the soldiers are also shell-shocked and chilled. Almost all war movies make me think of the famous war poem:
Dulce et Decorum Est
by Wilfrid Owen
Bent double, like of old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind:
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime…
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in sonic smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,-
My friend, you would not talk with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind:
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five-Nines that dropped behind.
Gas! Gas! Quick, boys!- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime…
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.
If in sonic smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,-
My friend, you would not talk with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
Which means "It is sweet and fitting to die for one's country". Though it was written during WWI, it aptly describes the numb horror and churning despair. I think along with that if I were in a war situation, I'd constantly be fitfully wavering between acceptance of my eventual death far far away from everything familiar and loved and wild, drunken, blinding hope that I'll survive and live the rest of my days peacefully.
I'd recommend it anyway though, because the amazing bond forged through the pressure and craziness is really beautiful. It's really not about why wars are fought or if there's a better way, but about the individual in the war, which can so easily be overlooked, especially when the death count gets really high (say in the 4 thousands...). It's easy to romanticise it but Band of Brothers really strikes a good balance between the awful death/dying bit and the bad ass I'll f you up if you f with my brothers.
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