Clingy

I hate to feel clingy. That's one thing I hate about myself. I do that.
That being "clingy."

I hate feeling like a nuisance or an annoyance. Being clingy seems to produce those kinds of feelings.

But maybe it's a good thing. Certainly better than not being close enough, right? I'd rather be clingy than ignorant.
Or at least I'd rather have someone who's clingy rather than ignorant.
I wonder what she would rather have...

If I asked her would that be a sign of obsessiveness?
Yes.
Aren't clingy-ness and obsessiveness cousins or related or basically the same thing?
Yeah, pretty much.

hmmmmmmmmm.....

I guess I won't then.

I just don't want her to become upset when I send her 3 texts within 3 hours because I receive no response.
Well actually that's because I needed to know real quick. So this was an isolated incident. Is that the correct term for something like this? It's the name of a Dane Cook comedy routine...hmmmm...

I should set up a rule where I don't send more than 2 texts that receive no reply per day. That sounds good. Don't want to be clingy.

I just want her to know I'm always thinking of her

Affection of a Madman

The definition of insanity is to do something over and over and expect different results. If this is true, I'd rather be a madman than a sane. Because experiencing something like this can is worth every minute of it's downfall. As much as it pains me to see it crumple, the time in it's prime will leave the larger impact. I'm willing to do that for her.

Nothing gold can stay. But God Dammit I'm willing to try.

My Adaptation of "Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Hayden

In class we were supposed to change some words, but keep the same structure of the poem "Those Winter Sundays." Here's my version:

Saturdays too, the man got up early,
And slipped into his running shorts in the piercing morning air,
Then with badly blistered feet that ached,
From the weekday mileage in the rugged terrain,
He ran. No one ever joined him.

I’d wake and hear the rhythmic patter of his footsteps.
When the day was young and sun still slept,
And slowly I would rise and go to the window,
To catch a glimpse of this solitary man,

I viewed him indifferently,
He who ignored the bite of the cold,
Or the tolls on his body as well,
What did I know, what did I know,
Of diligence and dedication

A Peak Into The Hated's History

Since the beginning of time, my people have been harassed and discriminated against. Our race came into existence in 5000 BCE when we first emerged from the molten lava of Mount Kilauea. Upon our birth we were immediately shunned by the natives of the island. Since then, my people have grown in population and have been quasi-accepted into society. We can now walk the streets without having rotten vegetables thrown at our heads or profanity shouted in our direction. The majority of us have adapted to today’s culture, though the elders still aren’t capable of venturing out in the daylight. We have been able to suppress the appearance of the “facial dots” through heavy invocation to our patron god, Amy Adams.  Through our newly formed equal rights group, headed by Conan O’Brien, we will be able to secure natural rights which we have consistently been denied. We will fight, and we will succeed. My name’s _______and I’m a Ginger.

 I am not of this race, I wrote this for a friend. Whew.

Time to move on?

I pulled into my schools parking lot for my final "Welcome Back" dance. I got out of my truck and made my way through the congestion of cars attempting to drop off their children. Waiting in line, I picked up a few lines of conversation such as "Oh my god, Erika got a text from David!" or "He dirty danced with another girl so I broke up with him." The dramatic dialogue drilled into my head and I started to feel dizzy and quite immature to even be in the vicinity of such conversation. I got my dog paw wristband and walked into the dance. The area was filled with the pungent, sweet scent of the newest Axe deodorant and thirty year-old after shave which some kids found in their dad's medicine cabinet. I held my breath and pushed through some timid freshman, still congregating by the door an hour into the dance.
I found my friends who looked as though they had been dragged to a Hannah Montana concert. Sadly I wasn't far off. The old, bald DJ must have thought it was a twelve year-old's birthday party, because the most recent music he played was Miley Cyrus, the rest being classics such as "YMCA" and "We are family." The dance floor was littered with freshman girls attempting look mature by humping, grinding and gyrating which looked more like seizures than dancing. A group of guys behind me began fighting over which graduating year was better, another group started a drunken mosh pit, while I overheard another group working up the courage to ask a group of girls to dance. It was in the moment I knew, deep down inside, I had outgrown High School. 

John Donne's "Break of Day" Analysis

I'm currently in my poetry unit for my AP Lit class and my teacher informed all of us on the first day of school that each and everyone of us would have an "Oh my god that poem blew my mind!" moment. Only 4 days into the school year and I've already had one. The poem was Break if Day by John Donne. After reading it more than 20 times in half an hour, I can honestly say it's one of my all time favorites. Every time you read it you get more out of it. If you have not read it, here it is:

Tis true, 'tis day ; what though it be?
O, wilt thou therefore rise from me?
Why should we rise because 'tis light?
Did we lie down because 'twas night?
Love, which in spite of darkness brought us hither,
Should in despite of light keep us together.

Light hath no tongue, but is all eye ;
If it could speak as well as spy,
This were the worst that it could say,
That being well I fain would stay,
And that I loved my heart and honour so
That I would not from him, that had them, go.

Must business thee from hence remove?
O ! that's the worst disease of love,
The poor, the foul, the false, love can
Admit, but not the busied man.
He which hath business, and makes love, doth do
Such wrong, as when a married man doth woo.


Despite my love of poetry, I must admit I am awful at analyzing them, but I will say what I enjoy about this one in particular.  


It's a scene that's both romantic and slightly funny, at least to me. A couple wakes up in bed and it's morning, so naturally the man gets up. However, the women attempts to pursued her lover to stay in bed with her. With each stanza, the women tries to persuade the man with different excuses. 


She starts with unimportance of daily routine. "Did you go to bed because it was night or because you loved me? Well you should stay in bed now that it's day...because you love me." She is therefore putting love above  daily routines. I find this funny because in actuality, she has a valid point, and what I mean by valid is there's no way he can leave or else she'll assume last night was just "a good time." Well played mistress.


She then comes at him stating not too be scared of letting the light see you, for all it does is see, and even if it were to speak, it wouldn't be bad. This statement must have been triggered by the man's event, either he continues to dress or he said he doesn't want anyone to see them. The woman responds with this stanza about not fearing being seen, which implies that they are not married and it's possibly an affair. This can be seen as the woman putting love above morality, as in she doesn't care about their affair being exposed as long as they're together and in love.


The last stanza is the woman's last desperate attempt to get him to stay. It can be inferred that the man has now played the "I gotta go to work" card and the woman is not happy about it. She can't believe he'd rather go to work than be with her. Poor, foul and false people can love, but not businessmen such as himself, because they will always put work before love. She ends the stanza by saying businessmen who make love are worse, morally speaking, than men who cheat on their spouses. This is yet another implication that the man she is with is married and yet again the message in the stanza is that love is above business/work. 


I find this poem entertaining because this is exactly how things would play out in real life. The man would try to slip out after a "fun night" and the woman, enthralled with love, just wants to lay there with him and share her happiness...which of course the man's like, no. I also find the different attempts on her part interesting, how she came up with a different angle every stanza and then, in her last attempt, she gets desperate and aims to hurt (LIKE EVERY WOMAN!). If the man is in fact married, the last stanza could be seen as taking a stab at him by making him feel guilty about cheating and saying that he's committing a sin even worse than that by leaving her for work (Which is funny because naturally it wouldn't be worse, but from her perspective it is. Sigh*. Women are so funny) The entire poem is written in rhyme, yet at the point where she get's desperate to keep him there, she exclaims "O" and breaks rhyme. (Remove + Love = no rhyme) 


Anyway, I love this poem. It's filled with romantic persuasions, the idea to not bend at light's will and to stay in bed, and realistic reactions, the woman getting upset and aiming to hurt when she's desperate. I also found it similar to Romeo and Juliet (Act III, Scene V) when the couple wakes up after their night together and Juliet attempts to keep  Romeo in bed. She says it's still night and that the lark he hears is a nightingale and the sun's light is just a comet in the sky. The silly things women do for affection eh?