In this great big world

Michelle — Fri, 10 Oct 2008 17:43:31 +0000

I’m a little less sure of today than I was yesterday,
I’m a little less certain of what is right and what is wrong,
I’m a little less happy of what my life’s become,
But I can’t see that because I can’t know that.

In this great big world,
What kind of pretend happiness can we have?
What kind of person can I be
If I turn a blind eye to what I know.

I’m a little more cautious of how I act,
And I’m a little more disappointed today, of all days,
But I’m a little more censored when I speak my mind,
But I can’t see that because I won’t admit that.

In this great big world,
I fall apart when I cannot breathe.
And in my heart of hearts,
I cannot breathe frequently.

I’m a little more sad when I wake up alone.
And I’m a little less hopeful when I fall asleep at night.
But I’m a little more realistic as I go through my day,
Because you have to be taught not to dream.

As I gasp for air, to catch my breath,
I cry for the insignificant and the misunderstood,
Because in this great big world,
No one looks for me.

Drowning in the 18th Century

Michelle — Fri, 12 Sep 2008 04:11:32 +0000

I just spent the last hour reading 18th century poetry (2 poems) and 1 essay written in the 18th century about the plight of impoverished Irish people in that time period. And the entire essay is satire. That coupled with the fact that the language is entirely different and the fact that this is all very confusing makes for a very confused Michelle. Oh, and I also have to look forward to the fact that I’ll be taking an English lit course next term that revolves around literature written before the 18th century. Go me.

Anyways, second week of term one is nearly complete. It’s been going pretty well so far. I’ve been able to keep up-to-date on all my notes and readings so far (so proud of myself). This weekend I’m rewriting (read: transferring) all my human bio course notes into a coiled notebook to keep it all a bit neat. I ran out of looseleaf paper today and ended up writing notes on mitochondria on the back of my English assignment (just the sheet she handed out, not the one with my answers).

Oh, and just to show how lame I am, I wrote a poem that’s somewhat (really) related to Clay and posted it up onto deviantART, forgetting that he knows the url to my DA account. But… Luckily he hasn’t read it. I think. If he has, he hasn’t commented on it. Which is a good thing, correct? But for those who are curious, click here to read it.

poetry – Imaginary Sunshine

In this great big world

Drowning in the 18th Century