Musings & Mutterings

I thought I would write this to help bare myself,
I know a poem says not my full 21 years, but here is a window.
To help you get to know, me, to show you a glimpse of my soul.
Rambling on, talking birds, falling down the rabbit hole.
Drink me, here we go. 

 College is beautiful pollution, telling me memories of someone else
Preaching the past in my present for my future
I drink in the constellations of others and I love it.
Like Thomisina I MOURN for things I’ve never known
Miss what I’ve never thought, and long for things I’ve never imagined.
Books are my best friends, I don’t read, I consume. 

 Talk about drunk on the milk of paradise, this is heaven for me,
The universe in a spyglass, art fills my sight, even when I’m not looking.
Dissecting Mona Lisa smiles and traveling through time on a canvas,
I am Van Gogh with both ears to the ground
I live for a deadline, racing against time and needing to feel accomplished.
But on the flip side, I am crushed by grids.
Designing all my days but still can’t design a fulfilled life. 

 That’s a lie. I’m very happy. Just bored and crazy, but that’s normal right?
I’m struggling to be free of myself , shed the chains of Alaine, to become me.
Swimming in circles, my continual journey
Circles which turn into whirlpools from the rapid succession of my ellipses,
Spiraling down, drowning, drowning in my own oxygen.
Breathe. 

 It’s a wretched truth, but wait, no! All we know is wrong.
Rambling on. Bet you didn’t expect this today.
Right now I have hella stage presence but this is just one version of myself.
Me- Sat over in that corner, too shy to say, but soaking it in.
This class especially, it seems a sin to not be a sponge, just let me observe… 

 Words often escape me, though thoughts are abundant.
Like stars littering the skies on a cloudy night, I have my moments.
See, I have been taught to filter.
I was in a hermitage of my own creation.
My past totally possessed my present, and not of my own volition.
Because I didn’t have the power of self to say otherwise. 

 “Kill yourself,” my bully said, to which I said “OUCH”.
Then it hurt, now, a thank you. You have created a wonder woman.
I am slowly picking the locks of my insecurities in my head.
I lashed myself to the plane of freedom and got the hell out of dodge. 

 Everyone knows the number one rule of being cool is to seem un-phased
So I fake it ‘til I make it with the best of them.
But every now and again that voice comes back in my head to say, “don’t”.
Now I have learned to fight back so don’t get me wrong, I am strong.
I am tough. I like me now, which is actually weird to say out loud. But I like it. 

 Because of my past I didn’t grow up, I grew in
And since when is being an introvert so fucking wrong?!
Getting graded on how many words you say in a day has me scared.
Everyone here tells me to “get out there” and I do, but why push it so hard?
However, whatever, whenever, forever.
I will be me. Quiet. Reading. Observing. And this is bad?
In an extroverted world, I sometimes feel out of place.
Like I’m walking in the dark even with the lights on. 

But hear me, I am crafty, a fox and don’t you dare ask what I say because instead I feel.
I am a lover. Yeah, I’m wary as shit, burned thrice and not wanting to go into it.
But I get along, beating against my current, sometimes too focused on future not present
I fluctuate between worrier and warrior.
But I am fierce, ok?
Just quiet. Feeling.

But speaking of wary, finding a guy here is tricky.

Like we’ve said in class, sex is everything but
Since when is my desirability based on if I spread my legs at bars?
Bars where girls constantly ask “Am I pretty?”
Rich is pretty if you shop at the right stores, but you know what? I’M POOR.
And you know what tastes better than skinny feels? French fries.
Pretty does not define me and I refuse to be crestfallen because I CHOOSE to go home alone.  

The double standard is priceless, men get high fives while women get labels.
Forced to laugh in public and cry in private.
Lonely, because society tells me I should be. Superficiality.  Awesome.
Based on my fuckability, I am thus rated. “Sex ruins determinism”: Correct.
On a scale of one to over trusting, I jump the gap daily.
Circling back, “I wish simply to be.”
Circling, you see what I did there?
My mania is intensified, memory running rampant & constantly making connections.
Now, diatribe over, circling again.
  

I want to look at the galaxies through a microscope,
To see the cosmos in my present day, experience history in every moment.
“Living on, in the uncertain hour before the morning”
Plunging through red sands of time, I hunger for antiquity.
Obsessed with time while wasting it, THAT is my college experience.
Past, present, future, I live it all in a day. 

Now: WHAT IS THE POINT? 

 My life is not a fairytale; I’m older than all of the Disney princesses
But I’m still shackled to this idea of fate, wanting tarot cards to point my way
I want to fast forward to the past,
To live what others did before me but with me as the protagonist
I am influenced by it all, the world is in the palm of my hand, I’m a mini Atlas.
And I am exploring all of it since I am a product of the ages. And I am lost.
Like looking at the earth from space I feel so small…
In the words of our professor, I don’t know what the fuck is going on at all. 

 Other hand, other words from the class “Who gives a shit?”
(just fyi, I have pages of quotes this room and it is hilarious)
But immediately following who gives a shit, this was said:
“It is not what we know that counts, it’s what we WANT to know that matters.”
Everything I knew to be true was thrown out the door,
Wait wait wait wait wait wait wait. Lemme see if I’ve got this straight:
So what you’re saying to me is, it’s the THOUGHT of the thought that counts more? 

 Teaching with an attitude, all right, I can grab a hold of that
Grabbing with blistered hands, this acts both the barbs and the sauve.
What the hell has this class done to me? I’ve turned into a Sherlock wanna-be
Head exploding but feeling like my eyes are open for the very first time
Reality and dreams, blinking from one into the other 

 Dreaming has gained an all-new meaning after listening to you.
I’m tempted to drink drug tea or learn to sleep write since those are things, actually
I wonder if they miss me while I’m awake, my dreams.
Sinking into the next level of things, I can’t not think about it now.
Just keep the jam jars away from me; I don’t want to go too overboard.
I can barely tread water as it is. Still swimming. 

 The birds are speaking now, this is too much reality,
too much idle chatter from someone who hasn’t got a clue.
But really, how many of us do, like, f’real?
Time slips by, my past just was, making way for the present.
The future is happening now and I have said my peace.

 Now. What do you have to say?

There are many references in this poem, I tried to use as many as possible while still drawing from personal references and experiences. I've listed a few of the big ones.

1.  Talking birds - Four Quartets
2.  Falling down the rabbit hole, drink me - Alice in Wonderland
3. And like Thomisina, I mourn for things I've never known - Arcadia
4. Drunk on the milk of paradise - Kubla Khsn
5. Mona Lisa - Yasmin's presentation
6. Swimming in circles - Brady's blog/The Swimmer
7. Continual journey - Night Sea Journey
8. All we know is wrong - Arcadia
9. Hermitage of my own creation - Arcadia
10. Lashed myself to the plane of freedom - For the Time Being
11. Thrice - Kubla Khan
12. Beating against my current - referencing The Great Gatsby
13. Sex ruins determinism - Jonah's comment on Arcadia
14. Circling - Brady blog
15. Mania is intensified, memory running rampant and constantly making connections - Signs and Symbols
16. Living on in the uncertain hour before the morning - Four Quartets
17. Red sands of time - For the Time Being
18. My life is not a fairytale - referencing the fairytale discussions
19. Wanting tarot cards to point my way - Valorie's blog entry
20. I am a mini Atlas - Titan holding the Earth
21. It is not what we know that counts, it's what we want to know that matters - Arcadia
22. What the hell has this class done to me? - Signs and Symbols
23. I've turned into a Sherlock wanna-be - Sherlock Holmes by Sir Conan Doyle
24. Reality and dreams, blinking from one into the other - referencing the dreams discussion
25. drug tea and sleep write - Matt and Valorie's dream comments
26. Just keep the jam jars away from me - Signs and Symbols
27. I can barely tread water as it is. Still swimming - The Swimmer
28. The birds are speaking now, this is too much reality - Four Quartets

This poem was so fun to present to the class, I loved seeing everyone's expressions. I'm going to record it soon and put it up so people can hear the inflections and each emphasis.