In Regards to Myself

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O…hai

Seems I’ve been neglecting this thing.  Let’s try to change that in the future.

Possible song lyrics - 6/29/2010

Author’s note: This is (again) but a zero draft, but it’s something that I’m definitely going to develop and possibly pick up a guitar to toy around with.  This is by no means complete, even as a draft, as the idea isn’t fully done and this (in my mind as of right now) wouldn’t comprise the full first verse.  Thoughts/comments/criticism are welcome and appreciated!  Also, I know this is going to sound kinda down and such, but I assure you its going to change toward the end of the full piece and I am by no means at the end of my rope.  In fact, just getting this on paper has me ecstatic and invigorated.  Enjoy!

Seems I’ve spent so long walking on my hands

Over gravel and glass and rusty nails

That I’ve become complacent

Seems only now that I have reached the freshly-paved asphalt

Do I feel a difference in the terrain

And notice that my legs are gone

Maybe that explains that crimson rain from two months back

Clearly cauterized in the summer sun

And my arms just cannot go on

Untitled draft excerpt; June 12, 2010

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                It is surprising how easily an invisible force such as the wind can lead one’s gaze.   As the professor lets the breeze roll in through the now open window, his attention shifts from the college-ruled notebook on the desk in front of him to the swaying leaves and branches of the trees outside.  Small leaves, bright green and not yet completely unfurled from their buds, shift gently to and fro as a mother robin tends to her nest and a pair of squirrels leap from branch to branch.  From his vantage point he can see past the tree to the edge of the grove, to the intersection of Oakland Avenue and Tenth Street.  There a large group of people stands waiting, some laughing and conversing, others staring intently forward to see the walking signal change.  Amongst the sedans and SUVs pouring through the intersection is the occasional cyclist.  The last remnants of conversational echoes manage to float in on the breeze, indistinguishable in any sense aside from pitch to his ears, and even these pitches are garbled when mixed with the annoyed voice of the professor.

                “Jim, I know this is our last class, but I’d appreciate it if you paid attention,” she chides, leaving on hand on her hip as the other lingers at her eye level to keep her chalk against the board.  Jim stirs and redirects his gaze to his instructor.

                “Sorry, it’s just really nice out.”  He rubs his left eye and stretches while suppressing a yawn.

                “Jim, are you okay?  You seem really worn out.”

                “Yeah, I know.  It’s just rough with finals coming up, and everything I need to take care of in my residence hall.”

                “You wear too many hats, Jim.”

                The yawn forces its way out, seeming to pry his jaws open.  He covers his mouth and slurs, “So they say.”

                As class ends, Jim packs up his textbooks, but leaves out his pen and notebook.  As he descends the stairs and exits the building, he jots down a to-do list for the coming days.  In addition to the four essays, two portfolios, critical project presentation, and take-home exam to be finished in the next week, he also has to worry about his responsibilities in his residence hall.  As the head community assistant, he has to distribute appropriate building closing flyers and materials to the rest of his staff, hold one last floor meeting, and find space in his schedule to check residents out of their rooms and perform inspections.  He also has to take care of the last of his responsibilities in the organizations in which he holds officer positions.  God forbid I look out to window to pretend I can relax a bit.

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