Night, Death, Mississippi.
i've repeatedly read this poem. about five million times in the last twelve hours, and it seems to get better each time. Usually, this doesn't happen for me. I'm not very much of a poem person--it's easier to say that than to explain that a lot of poetry is crap and not very enjoyable to my own eyes.
This one, though, gets better every time i read it. That's also a good thing considering that I have a paper on it due in about an hour and a half. This menas I have to get somewhere with a printer, also. But it seems like it should be fine considering i only have half a page left that i absolutely must write.
i am a bad student. i don't think that any multitude of away messages professing contrary will make me a good student. i am simply going to embrace that and, hopefully, work through preventitive measures from now on. This means attending class and turning in papers. Potentially, these actions may revolutionize my life--but probably not.
i sat there in class yesterday and wondered why the hell i was there. nothing was being brought out or said that i hadn't thought when i read the book. yes, there were a lot more highlights on jewish culture than i had known before--but not really yesterday, more last wednesday.
i feel like i should tell my professors that they have succeeded in shaping me into an individual that reads between the lines and analyzes everything, so they really shouldn't be that upset and/or mark down my grade if i am not present in their classroom. for some odd reason, i don't feel like that will work--although it really, really should.
It just seems like you get to a point where there's not much more to learn in the classroom, but everything to learn by getting your ass out there and doing things. that time is now, but my professors don't seem to really agree and i don't have the balls to go into their office hours and propose that sort of situation to them. especially when i should really befriend the one since she is the head of the MFA for creative writing here, i do believe. i mean, i haven't checked on it, but i know she has something to do with admissions. now that is something else.
but stay at michigan? never. the only boring place i'd go to continue and snag an MFA is iowa for the writers workshop. that is a dream in and of itself, as well as a bit of a nightmare. i can't imagine them producing anything other than great writers who are coincidentally fantastic alcoholics because... well, what else is there to do in iowa but drink excessively and imagine wildly?
ok ok. enough of this. i'm going to finish this stupid paper and go turn it in.
This one, though, gets better every time i read it. That's also a good thing considering that I have a paper on it due in about an hour and a half. This menas I have to get somewhere with a printer, also. But it seems like it should be fine considering i only have half a page left that i absolutely must write.
i am a bad student. i don't think that any multitude of away messages professing contrary will make me a good student. i am simply going to embrace that and, hopefully, work through preventitive measures from now on. This means attending class and turning in papers. Potentially, these actions may revolutionize my life--but probably not.
i sat there in class yesterday and wondered why the hell i was there. nothing was being brought out or said that i hadn't thought when i read the book. yes, there were a lot more highlights on jewish culture than i had known before--but not really yesterday, more last wednesday.
i feel like i should tell my professors that they have succeeded in shaping me into an individual that reads between the lines and analyzes everything, so they really shouldn't be that upset and/or mark down my grade if i am not present in their classroom. for some odd reason, i don't feel like that will work--although it really, really should.
It just seems like you get to a point where there's not much more to learn in the classroom, but everything to learn by getting your ass out there and doing things. that time is now, but my professors don't seem to really agree and i don't have the balls to go into their office hours and propose that sort of situation to them. especially when i should really befriend the one since she is the head of the MFA for creative writing here, i do believe. i mean, i haven't checked on it, but i know she has something to do with admissions. now that is something else.
but stay at michigan? never. the only boring place i'd go to continue and snag an MFA is iowa for the writers workshop. that is a dream in and of itself, as well as a bit of a nightmare. i can't imagine them producing anything other than great writers who are coincidentally fantastic alcoholics because... well, what else is there to do in iowa but drink excessively and imagine wildly?
ok ok. enough of this. i'm going to finish this stupid paper and go turn it in.
2 Comments:
iowa?... when?... its right below minnesota!... we're alchies here too!
In a few years. It's really, really The Dream--but not really My Dream. It's normally the best creative writing program in the nation. Kurt Vonnegut used to be the head of the program.
Honestly, getting an MFA from Stanford, now THAT would be the shit... or, you know, not continuing on with school and just graduating with a BA would be phatty too! :)
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