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"On a Bad Day Who Would You Kill...?"
Aug. 27th, 2009 01:41 pmIt's nearly time for lab and I haven't started my o.chem homework, but just pulling out of the world for a few moments tastes unbelievably good. It feels like my days are long streams of chaos, kind of like the insides of cells, with the motor proteins swishing the cytoplasm around the way Maria and I used to in the swimming pool, swimming in circles until we made a well in the center of us.
I can't make the homework programme for French class work, I am unbelievably too stupid for biology 106, but I love my religion class, I love deconstructing the cultural needs and aspects of religion, and the way it shapes us and we shape it, I love that. So I have one class that I love, and I think everybody needs an anchor and if that's the only one I have this semester, it doesn't matter, I can still go to Brumbaugh and hide in the vertebrate zoology lab for half an hour and watch the snakes. And when I go watch the snakes, I can always pretend that they love me as much as I love them.
I've already begun to forget about sleep, I've already gotten deep deep deep into clubs when I should be concentrating my energy elsewhere, but it suddenly, dramatically occurred to me that when people say "what are you going to do with your major" it's not a fault to say "I don't know" (you can even laugh carelessly and hop on your bicycle, pedalling off in a swirl of skirt, looking like a crazy girl) and if they look down on you (because at Juniata you're supposed to be driven) you can still go be loved by the snakes. Or the bees. And you can remember that you know where the secret places are, where to find the snakes and the bees, and you know how to climb that tree in the Sherwood quad.
So I'm unprepared and I'm unready, which is how all children come into the world, whoosh all covered in blood and fluid and newness, and I'll learn the stupid cell biology and I'll do my o.chem homework and I'll even remember to eat dinner.
The world doesn't have to love me as long as I love the world.
I can't make the homework programme for French class work, I am unbelievably too stupid for biology 106, but I love my religion class, I love deconstructing the cultural needs and aspects of religion, and the way it shapes us and we shape it, I love that. So I have one class that I love, and I think everybody needs an anchor and if that's the only one I have this semester, it doesn't matter, I can still go to Brumbaugh and hide in the vertebrate zoology lab for half an hour and watch the snakes. And when I go watch the snakes, I can always pretend that they love me as much as I love them.
I've already begun to forget about sleep, I've already gotten deep deep deep into clubs when I should be concentrating my energy elsewhere, but it suddenly, dramatically occurred to me that when people say "what are you going to do with your major" it's not a fault to say "I don't know" (you can even laugh carelessly and hop on your bicycle, pedalling off in a swirl of skirt, looking like a crazy girl) and if they look down on you (because at Juniata you're supposed to be driven) you can still go be loved by the snakes. Or the bees. And you can remember that you know where the secret places are, where to find the snakes and the bees, and you know how to climb that tree in the Sherwood quad.
So I'm unprepared and I'm unready, which is how all children come into the world, whoosh all covered in blood and fluid and newness, and I'll learn the stupid cell biology and I'll do my o.chem homework and I'll even remember to eat dinner.
The world doesn't have to love me as long as I love the world.
