What Calculus and Physics Have I

The people around me have enough potential energy for my happiness to reach a maximum. They are good people, with honest square roots and enough entertainment contained within them to allow me to experience a better day.

So what’s the problem?

My integral! My integral is negative, it doesn’t match all their positive outputs.

Metaphor aside, I get frustrated. The little things people do as a part of their character flaws (which I do, truly understand that everyone has), honestly destroy me inside. I am incapable of sympathy when someone else fails where I succeed.

Not only that, but once a person has decided “Yeah, she’s a cool chap, we should hang sometime,” I become distant. Why? Why do I do all these things? I fail to make decisions on whether I really want to be someone’s friend instead of taking the time to experiment, say.

Conclusion

I am in a transitory state. I’m 95% sure I won’t be seeing many of these people again, so it seems I’ve just been idling along, not going to any efforts. It’s a terrible curse—I have the choice of either losing friendships now and being lonely and slightly depressed, or I make the unbreakable bonds of friendships to these people I know I could be friends with in ten, twenty, fifty years. The downfall of that option is that once I leave, I’ll just be feeling the guilt I feel when I don’t communicate because I’m Lazy.

Conclusion Part II

I’m lazy. I don’t want to make any decisions right now because everything’s going to pivot 180 degrees in about three months. Can I wait three months?

Let’s party tonight, friends, and see if I can’t fix this problem and stop thinking about it too seriously.

I'm restless as the Spring Breeze!

I walked out of the dorm this morning, straight into a warm gust of wind. I feel the electrons in my molecules jumping a little higher, a little faster. They fly all over the place, making me jump and squeal in joy. My heart beats a little faster, my lungs breathe a little deeper, and I can't help but pushing out all those cynical thoughts for just today.

Spring!
Oh, I think about it and I just start whirring. My little mind and my muscles just want to jump everywhere and exclaim how wonderful it is. It's a relief after the hard winter, and we can walk anywhere and do anything uninhibited-like. We opt for friendliness, we can't possibly have a sour mood. It's the time of year that happiness is unavoidable. I really can't contain myself enough to form an actual sentence or a paragraph that makes sense. All I know is that this weather has me flying like I always wish I could. Honestly, just breathing is the most satisfying feeling I've ever felt. It's not building, it's not tense or suspended, it's all the happiness you can bear in a single instant, times about 20 instants to last a breath! And all that happiness just repeats and repeats until you hyperventilate from absorbing Earth's good energy.




Aaaaaaah, just give it to me, give it to me good, spring.

Lives in Review

As I said, I wrote some things, and I wanted to post them somewhere just to give them a third party feel, atleast for myself.  Yeah.

Some of these are halfsies.  I get half-inspired, and there it is.

Hide your eyes

Not meant for imperfection

Trust these lies

They're for your own protection

---

Ozymandias Revisited

I am a universal man

I am the heavens and land

I will not dull with the grating sand

Nor fall from grace up on my stand

Me and my lofty universal grand!

I am the king of a man-made world

Sitting in an ugly cigarette-butt stand

No profit in my rotting mind

To benefit me in the plotting kind

I am the king of a wondrous trash land.

---

What stories did they write, fifty years beyond me

What flaws characterize me, lead me to my doom

Events of my life, misshapen geometry

Past loves thought incidental, ended up my truths

Of all my passing times and wayward shifts

Which direction did I stumble stumble rightly there

The infinite thoughts and words, flowing in a river

Delta of my mouth, ocean of your doubt

The life that's past, convincing us go forward

Become my ending grit, becoming me in spirit.

---

Spoken word-thoughts become my long list of truancy.

---

Legs flailing in the dead of night

Looking for a great delight

Hearts racing, smiles changing

Shimmer from the union-making

Going on forever-longer

Aiming to prolong our hunger

Looking for a great delight

Searching in the dead of night

---

All these words are pulling me

In the wrong direction

Got nothing to say or be or see

From this old perspective

Sitting in the filthy day

Soaking in the filthy night

Speaking in two tongues

They've got no stay inside this head

Nor peace inside my bed

---

Human

The characters in life, or caricatures we've made

Cocktails of malice and creatures cliche

Orbit the sun in the pattern of life

Oh common eye, see now our strife.

Hark! The orbit!  It seems somewhat queer

What have they, their orbit, seems somewhat near

Their land on this planet is one with what's mine

Be their shelter my rain, their doldrum my shine

Sin-seek to compell them in life's last triad

Tragedy:  All in the end makes

A life complete, just life half-had.

(This one's really rough)

---

Clover Farm

Education

Procreation

Denigration

Death

Happy times

with fools in kind

You're lucky

Be the best

Education

Procreation

Denigration

Death

Find the one

Who's got the guns

Discover what means

One plus one

Education

Procreation

Denigration

Death

They get older

Now them numble

They know what's what

Best

Education

Procreation

Denigration

Death

Now it's over

Never quicker

Better when you

Grow with Clover

Done

---

Twist my wrists and bend me back

Forever give me someone's past

Of lightness, darkness, filled and packed

Nothing ever bloomed like asked

---

Johnny Fucking Kennedy

Blew my fucking mind

We loved him just so

Goddamn much

We traded him in kind.

---

Every word is a panted breath

In the throes of love

You fight the feel, you kick, you squeal

Thank the god above

---

If I'd known the coward's weight

Carried sorrow, heavy fate

I'd have known a better way

To fight the ills, to face the day

Instead I floated life along

Beside life's river happy hangs

We went together singing long

Caroling out our chaste prolong

Now I hear my party bells

For reasons which I cannot tell

I became the coward scorned

A tainted life, my life adorned

Finding now my certain fate

Ending how they thought me great

---

A Salty Juxtaposition of Images

The heart is a vast and empty space

The tenants come and go

Scared away by thrashing glee

Seducing them in throe

The heart is a vast and empty space

Vacant by my doing

Their thoughts surround me, haunt unbounding

Demons, me unbinding

The heart is a vast and empty space

No room for other sin

I look upon the store of sorrow

And smile while thoughts are grim

The heart is a vast and empty space

Infinitely filling

Tracing holes to a center mind

Once there withdraw, repealing

---

And that's all folks.

And, poetry contest? Three best?

Double-Fisting Hiroshima

An infinite number of possibilities reek about me, but I feel like I can't touch them or taste them or feel them or be them.  I feel limited, I feel limiting.  Honey, this engagement is over.  Do we marry or do we part ways?  Every instant standing still is a possibility lost to the great, swallowing monster of time and I want them all back--I want every moment I ever turned down.  Perhaps if I just go back to the places and re-invent the occasions I'll be able to apologize to my monster.

He is not forgiving.

Do we exit, or stay?

Freeloader

My mother is pushing me out of the house. I am pushing back. She claims maturity is marked by taking on responsibilities such as work and...spending time with family? Her arguments have many large holes.

I get the right grades, I don't get in any trouble, but I tend to go out with friends, and I choose to avoid wasting my precious winter break working at a place I hate, making a negligible amount of money.

Ah my crimes cut deep.

Somehow I doubt my future will be shaped by today's shitty jobs. I'll graduate, I'll travel, I'll work, and all this will be completely unrelated to being a server or whatever other kind of job.

Oh! But I'll learn what it means to work as a part of a team, to take a bullet, to eat the words of an idiot and praise it like it's the word of God, to be overly competent and surrounded by impotence.

These lessons are valuable.

Now I know how to be subordinate, and I know how to be completely demeaned. My spirits are tainted against the working ways, goddammit I'm not doing it.

Tension in your Nugget

I've got this fire burning cold in me, raging unrelentlessly. I've been fi-fighting it for so long, but I think it's the wrong approach. I think I'll try giving in, seeing where it takes me. I think I let it once, but it took my consciousness with it. Having that back, it's like Christmas at midnight.
============

The one thing about life that has been deluding me lately is everyone's fear of mistakes.

Someone close to many people I love died a few weeks ago. Although nothing is certain, someone would have to be Aristotle to convince me he didn't do it on purpose. He had many problems in his life, and I think in the end he decided he'd made too many mistakes.

My mother is a few years from the fifty-mark, and she categorizes her life as a list of mistakes. College, marriage, remarriage, children.

Now, I face a decision. I either stay at this land-locked, farm-locked university, in a department that wants me to stay and do their "research", surrounded by 99% of Kentucky's smartest students, or go to an urban city, an urban university, and risk being in a department that "shuts their doors", talking to rich kids in their polos and white cardigans.

The mistake part, right? That's where she started. Mistakes.
If I should channel my response through a 20's poet, I might say

Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand:
Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!

I don't think the mistake happens when you make the wrong choice. The mistake happens when you don't know how to deal with it, and you let it consume you to the point of shame and regret.

The man and the train: face your chosen circumstance, make the hard decision, and let yourself be happy. You're not the only one who chose the wrong life for yourself. A car is not a total reinvention, but it's a start.

The woman and the computer: your fate is not who you are, and it is not decided. Yeah, you're blocked from going out, you're prevented from getting to know your aging daughters, but it will not last. The mistakes you blame let you learn, so learn. Relax, and do the best you can.

The first-person narrative: make your mistake.



Another question: Is life a comedy or a tragedy? Pessimism or cynicism?
Today the sun is out shining, but the wind and the cold air cut my skin.

Raunchy Things are True to Form

Living fucking life

And fucking goddamn life

You hear it just so goddamn much

You want to spew your fill

I want to suck the marrow,

Blow it goddamn hard

Instead I find myself asleep,

Waking in my bed.

Now if we feel the fighting urge

To be a smaller person,

We do the fucking in our heads

Not feel the fucking feel.

My English professor said that the careful, diligent writer pursues poetry.  He finds its eloquent words disproportionately significant to, maybe, a short story or novel.  This prof also thinks, though, that there is only one dominant interpretation of Shakespeare.  I say?  Thanks for the A, and I'll see you in a day.

I've been poetic lately.  My shit started out shitty, and as time went forth and I got bored of the shit, I wrote noticeably less shitty.  However I surpassed the ideal "less shitty" and proceeded to write completely incomprehensable bullshit.  I yearn for the lesser of the shitty days, they were my best.

What I mean to say is, it's good to hear from you.  I'm not actually this profane little bitch-of-a-girl.  I take on the persona to fuel whatever needs to be ousted from my soul-thoughts.

PS:  I don't like this big, white background.  It daunts me.