tired and cranky
Tonight I give my last final. After I grade them, I will be completely school free (as both a student and teacher) for the first time in quite a while. Weird.
Just when I should be celebrating, after all, they will hood me one week from today, I find myself tired and cranky. REALLY cranky.
I tried retail therapy yesterday. It didn't work. But I brought home some cute clothes that fit me.
Yoga was a HUGE struggle this morning. I pulled myself together enough to get home, eat, and make up a final. No clear head.
Even my sleep is plagued with dreams of walking Phoenix across logs with a leash that chokes him to death when he falls off and I try to pull him back up.
Is it the change itself? Is it an angst over the coming move and job? Am I coming down with something?
Maybe the political world has finally beaten me down.
All I know is that as I re-read Ginsberg's Howl to teach tonight, I find myself identifying...
and then I think of his poem, "America"
I never know what is personal and what is political. Somehow the universe never lets me make such distinctions. Ginsberg goes on:
I am talking to myself again.
When will you/when will I/when will we be angelic?
I am howling...yes, the moon is full, but she is not to blame this time.
Just when I should be celebrating, after all, they will hood me one week from today, I find myself tired and cranky. REALLY cranky.
I tried retail therapy yesterday. It didn't work. But I brought home some cute clothes that fit me.
Yoga was a HUGE struggle this morning. I pulled myself together enough to get home, eat, and make up a final. No clear head.
Even my sleep is plagued with dreams of walking Phoenix across logs with a leash that chokes him to death when he falls off and I try to pull him back up.
Is it the change itself? Is it an angst over the coming move and job? Am I coming down with something?
Maybe the political world has finally beaten me down.
All I know is that as I re-read Ginsberg's Howl to teach tonight, I find myself identifying...
"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, startving hysterical naked..."
and then I think of his poem, "America"
"America I've given you all and now I'm nothing.
America two dollars and twenty-seven cents January 17, 1956.
I can't stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb
I don't feel good don't bother me.
I won't write my poem till I'm in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?"
I never know what is personal and what is political. Somehow the universe never lets me make such distinctions. Ginsberg goes on:
"I'm addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I'm obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It's always telling me about responsibility. Businessmen are serious. Movie
producers are serious. Everybody's serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again."
I am talking to myself again.
When will you/when will I/when will we be angelic?
I am howling...yes, the moon is full, but she is not to blame this time.
posted by perrykat at
3:49 PM
2 Comments:
That poem has haunted me for years.
I'd offer this as another line of investigation.
Completing a journey can be the hardest part, as the goal defines us. Attaining the goal means losing the goal and its definition.
We become aimless and meaningless until a new goal is achieved.
Finding a new goal to commit to and believe in is important. And it can be hard if the goal just achieved didn't bring everything hoped for.
Maybe better to say, finding a new journey that you can look forward to being on.
Sage advice. Will think it over. I am planning to work hard on my yoga all summer. Get deeper in a few poses.
Also planning a road trip...
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