sociology teacher::
i feel like when i look at her eyes they're already almost dead.
we have things in common
but these things only highlight our differences.
like the fact that she only laughs a bitter laugh.
our world is so flawed, she only finds humor in the dark & depressing.
it's what consumes her.
she recognizes the flaws
& that things are not getting better
& won't
& will only worsen.
& in her eyes, this is it. she creates her own reality & truth & beauty.
so even as she creates it she knows that it is not real or true or beautiful.
she has nothing to look forward to
because what she does have to look forward to
working at the bar, writing letters of fury to Walmart, catching the Daily Show and hot, random hookups
it's all chasing after wind.
it's meaningless
"socially constructed."
what a sad life to lead. sad outlook to have.
CYT rehearsal this weekend was grand. it smelled like little kid farts and felt like sticky air-heads. it looked like matthew [very small, adorable child] improv dancing to Aslan's return song, and improv dancing like it's his last moments on earth. he's 8. he's fantastic. he asks lots of questions. i'm quite fond of this hilarious child.
after church on Sunday i went to go and study at Panera. Sunday was pretty windy. I put my english folder on top of my car to get the laptop out and the next second hundreds of pretty white essays and information sheets and scrawlings on lined paper tore out of the folder and flew quickly all over the parking lot.
ALL OVER.
and it was still windy, so i'm dashing about as quickly as possible and people are sitting in their cars laughing at me and one old lady starts helping me. we've each got a bajillion papers and it's still windy and some papers are still hiding underneath tires. she gives me my papers back and i collect the few others and put them back in their folder and some girl comes from around the corner with some more papers.
finally i go into panera and two people ask me if i got all of them.
that was just... very entertaining, i'm sure.
[actually. it was kinda funny.]
i feel like when i look at her eyes they're already almost dead.
we have things in common
but these things only highlight our differences.
like the fact that she only laughs a bitter laugh.
our world is so flawed, she only finds humor in the dark & depressing.
it's what consumes her.
she recognizes the flaws
& that things are not getting better
& won't
& will only worsen.
& in her eyes, this is it. she creates her own reality & truth & beauty.
so even as she creates it she knows that it is not real or true or beautiful.
she has nothing to look forward to
because what she does have to look forward to
working at the bar, writing letters of fury to Walmart, catching the Daily Show and hot, random hookups
it's all chasing after wind.
it's meaningless
"socially constructed."
what a sad life to lead. sad outlook to have.
CYT rehearsal this weekend was grand. it smelled like little kid farts and felt like sticky air-heads. it looked like matthew [very small, adorable child] improv dancing to Aslan's return song, and improv dancing like it's his last moments on earth. he's 8. he's fantastic. he asks lots of questions. i'm quite fond of this hilarious child.
after church on Sunday i went to go and study at Panera. Sunday was pretty windy. I put my english folder on top of my car to get the laptop out and the next second hundreds of pretty white essays and information sheets and scrawlings on lined paper tore out of the folder and flew quickly all over the parking lot.
ALL OVER.
and it was still windy, so i'm dashing about as quickly as possible and people are sitting in their cars laughing at me and one old lady starts helping me. we've each got a bajillion papers and it's still windy and some papers are still hiding underneath tires. she gives me my papers back and i collect the few others and put them back in their folder and some girl comes from around the corner with some more papers.
finally i go into panera and two people ask me if i got all of them.
that was just... very entertaining, i'm sure.
[actually. it was kinda funny.]
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