My life is not an apology, but a life.

Sometimes all I focus on is the future, and Ralph Waldo Emerson thinks that’s wrong.

“There is simply the rose; it is perfect in every moment of its existence.” –Self Reliance

I am confuzzled, I used to say.

“He [man] cannot be happy and strong until he too lives with nature in the present, above time.” –S.R.

There is a forest within me.

My favourite poet, who also coincides in identity with my old writer’s craft teacher, wrote one day,

I am a bear. I will eat you.

And to have figured that out, oh boy.

I need to read some poetry real soon or else I’m going to get stuck in this mud I’ve trampled into.

Everything is moving so fast (ugh, I am growing tired of writing this phrase over years of blogging), and my brain is simply not keeping up.  Reading for entire days really makes me groggy.  Especially when there’s certain readings that I just can’t. seem. to finish.

(cough, R.W. Emerson, cough)

I love it, but it’s like walking through a case of drying cement.

Anyway, I’m going to go to Tim Horton’s and try to do a little focusing without my laptop. I keep checking the email to see whether my ballsyness paid off or not, and then I remember that it’s Friday night and even employers are out partying.  God forbid I do the same, and be like everyone else.

I just laze around in my bed all day with the shades drawn and the lights on and check my email like some anxious anthropophobic nutcase.

Okie. Enough about me.

-Arina

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One thought on “My life is not an apology, but a life.

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