Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Modern Pillow Book

This was an assignment for a class that I enjoyed very much.  It is basically an imitation and modernization of the Pillow Book by Sei Shonagun, a courtlady in 11th century Heian Japan. THe original work is basically a journal and contains lists, musings, and observations about daily life and culture. Here is my imitation. It was exeptionally entertaining to write.

Musings of a College Freshman

1.       Things That Are Awkward or Annoying

The afternoon nap that sneaks up on you, causing you to miss choir.

When someone says hello to you and their friends titter as if it was an insult.

When a friend brings up a touchy subject and is offended when you seem frustrated.

You can’t remove someone from your heart as easily as you can delete their number off your phone. No matter how much you would like to.

A friend gets jealous when you interact with her crush. You have to assure her that he does indeed seem to be interested in her, and that you yourself wish them all the best. 

When you have to ask a person’s name after a week or two of friendship because you failed to pay enough attention when they first introduced themselves and had heretofore been too embarrassed to admit it.

While helping a friend with math homework, she refuses to listen to you. Your work doesn’t match her teacher’s step-by-step instructions that confused her in the first place, and despite the fact that you know your numbers are right, she is angry. You want to help her and yet all that has occurred is the start of a feud.

Your date pulls out his I.D. to purchase your dinner, but the establishment does not accept Dining Dollars. The young suitor is a bit ruffled and stutters as he pulls out an alternate form of payment. It is very uncomfortable to be the cause of another’s embarrassment, and you wish this date had never happened.

When other people have rented a puppy and you must resist joining them in fawning over it. You know they paid for the small, furry, ball of energy and joy and you have no right to play with it. Yet, the urge is hard to ignore. After greeting the animal you restrain yourself from further usurping its attention.

When the website that you need to purchase course materials from fails to authorize your valid Debit card and you fall behind in the class. Once you finally alleviate that problem by asking your mother to use her credit card, the website still says you don’t have any course materials, despite the fact that you have an email saying that the payment has been processed.

2.
Dinner with my friends is always an interesting affair. We gather around a table and sometimes two. There are too many of us often for one. This always occurs at about six in the evening, but more and more of us continue to file into the Cannon Center until about an hour later.
                Each night, the conversations are heated and lively. Although the girls out-number the boys, there is still plenty of flirtation. Tonight, the group decided to get what rise they could from Emily by stealing her phone. Of course they meant no harm and would give it back to her as soon as the game ceased to entertain, but it took a long time. Emily reacted in such a pleasing way, searching each member of the group, while never suspecting the one that was holding on to it.
                I came in halfway through this situation, and my confusion was abated only when someone explained. “Natalie has Emily’s phone, and everyone but Emily knows,” Tahoe said with a kind hearted glint of mischief in his eyes. It is nothing less of what I have come to expect from this group of adolescents. After a few more laughs, Natalie returned the phone.
                I think it is interesting that at the young age of 18 or 19, people are supposed to be adults. We still hold on to many childlike behaviors. We play games to establish an odd sort of hierarchy and are practically incapable of any mature thought. Strange and petty arguments are daily occurrences.  Yet, we can vote; we have a say in the government. We are expected to live without the ever-present support or supervision of parents. Responsibility, new and strange, weighs us down and sometimes we crumble under the pressure rather than rising to the challenge. 
                Although this organization of society may seem counterproductive and counter intuitive, it is not. This university is a testing ground. We can fail here without drastic and long lasting effects. The support we get from old and new friends, family, and others gives a unique stability. When we fall, there are many hands reaching for us. We just have to look around to see them.

3.       Disagreeable Sights
People blatantly disregarding the Honor Code.

Empty ice cream cartons at the Cannon Center.

A suit that still has tacks on its vents the third week of wear. Even more disagreeable is the fact that you cannot bring this problem up with the owner. It is not that you aren’t close to him both physically and mentally, but somehow you suspect he will be more embarrassed by your notice than the entire ward’s unspoken disapproval. I wish I could sneak up behind him and rectify the situation.

The large zit on your face that wasn’t there a week ago.

A past romantic interest talking to another girl. It is especially displeasing at a club activity that I enjoy attending. I will not miss out simply because I do not wish to see him flirt. But, I must witness it and bear it, even when he holds her close while dancing.

A couple grossly enamored with one another in the lobby snuggling.

A gray sky without any definite clouds. It all merges together, one mass of vapor weighing down on the world.

          The clock pronouncing that it is time for something unpleasant.
Unread messages building up on LearningSuite. It is annoying to see the Icon with an ever increasing number, and yet, they remain. I could fix this by simply clicking through them all, but that is also excessively irritating.

  
Such fun. Jan. 2015              

               
 


Musings

It's nearly 2 in the morning. I am wide awake. My brain is hyperactive rather than resting. Thoughts are a jumble, a confusing tornado that rushes through me. Sleep is like a tempermental friend, sometimes too clingy, other times illusive. Usually clingy though. This night finds me in an unusual state. And in other ways, a state that I have been in since you called the last time.

Little reminders that ought not to be reminders at all.

Songs that reflect my feelings on exactness. In the choir concert tonight, we performed one. It is a beautiful piece. The words, "How can I hold onto my soul so that it does not touch yours?" reflect the fear that is paired with attachment. Next, "everything that touches us, you an me, together. Like a single bow drawing out from two strings but one voice" emphasize the way we are the same. But, the fear is not conquered by this. " I'd tuck it away" I wish I could tuck my affetion for you away, become indifferent.

Maybe then we could truely be friends.

But right now, I am to afraid of more pain. Even such a small connection can break. Even such a small break can cause terrible pain. I turn away from you, and yet am drawn to you. You've pushed me away, gently as you could, but with a harsh honesty. Yet, I hover, orbit, and seek you out. I see you when I get the chance, even though there is enevitably the agony of a reminder of what could of been but that isn't, and presumably will never be.

I sang that song for you, knowing you could not know. There's a chance you might have heard, waiting backstage. False hope that you could have heard and listened. Hope that you felt it. Banishing you from my mind so that I could more properly sing was hard, but I could not accept the tightness in my throat. Still, I sang for you, even if by doing so made it more difficult than ever.

I saw you afterwards, in the gallery. Without meaning to, I found you in the crowd. Turning away, I found the friend I had been scanning for, but less happily for the sight. So near but unreachable. We shared a wave. A meaningless wave, really. What does a wave mean anyway? If it means goodbye, you already said that. If it means hello, I have tried to say that to no avail.

The easy flow of discourse has been stopped as if by a government funded dam the public wishes gone, and the blockage is similairly insurmountable. Yet, I will continue to sing for you. Maybe that is the only form of communication I will ever have with you. It's not enough, but it's there. Because, I cannot hold on to my soul. It reaches out for you at every turn, at every breath.

Perhaps, when I waved back, I meant I haven't given up. I don't know why.



Sunday, February 8, 2015

Wishes

I wish I were a poet and could write my feelings into beautiful verse. It would give a purpose to it. To the pain. If I could transform it into something, anything other than what it is. If I could express it effectively, maybe, I could free myself of it.
I wish I could see. I wish you could understand. I wish I could communicate. I wish it wasn’t so hard. I wish I could shake my terror.
But, these things seem impossible. I know that they are unattainable.
It doesn’t matter. The wish is still there.
I wish we could be the way we once were.
I wish if I told you, it would make sense. I wish you would respond to me well and not with disgust.

But, wishes are not reality.