Dorothy Parker

Symptom Recital

I do not like my state of mind;
I'm bitter, querulous, unkind.
I hate my legs, I hate my hands,
I do not yearn for lovelier lands.
I dread the dawn's recurrent light;
I hate to go to bed at night.
I snoot at simple, earnest folk.
I cannot take the gentlest joke.
I find no peace in paint or type.
My world is but a lot of tripe.
I'm disillusioned, empty-breasted.
For what I think, I'd be arrested.
I am not sick, I am not well.
My quondam dreams are shot to hell.
My soul is crushed, my spirit sore;
I do not like me any more.
I cavil, quarrel, grumble, grouse.
I ponder on the narrow house.
I shudder at the thought of men....
I'm due to fall in love again.

-Dorothy Parker

Dorothy Parker has always been my inspiration.  She was such a sad woman, but she made up for it by keeping herself and the people around her laughing.

Love has become so fictionalized, so romanticized that it is scarcely recognizable anymore.  It is easy to dismiss me for saying that since I have never had any luck in that area.  But honestly, even the couples that work out in real life are completely unlike the couples that work out in novels.  The finish line in novels is agreeing to go out on a date with someone (or marry them depending on the time period).  They don't talk about how dating is a nightmare, how you will both change in a year in very different ways, and how you find yourself attracting to other people, no matter how hard you try.

I am convinced, on this subject, that Dorothy Parker is right.

Out of Place

I have a bench in the Cathedral of Learning that I always sit on.  Nowhere is ever there because it is very out of place.  It is directly in front of a cold window, it is not close to any classrooms, and it is rather uncomfortable.  The Cathedral is always so busy that I like having a place that I know will always be mine.  At least, I think that is why I like it.

It is as out of place as I am here.  I am not a college student; I am still technically a high school senior.  Yet, I do not enter the high school at all anymore, and I take all my classes at Pitt.  This is apparently something that no one has ever done before at Franklin.  I suppose that should make me feel special but all it really says is there is absolutely no one who I can relate to.

A couple weeks ago one of my guy friends was complaining about all the drama that occurs in high school.  I replied, "Well, it will be over soon and you won't have to deal with such annoying people.  In college, I can go through an entire week without talking to anyone since I just attend lectures."  Lucky, he said.  Yes, I suppose I am lucky.  Though this kind of luck is awfully lonely.

Our Tastes

"Hipster refers to a subculture of young, recently settled urban middle class adults and older teenagers that appeared in the 1990s. The subculture is associated withindependent music, a varied non-mainstream fashion sensibility, liberal or independent political views, alternative spirituality or atheism/agnosticism, and alternative lifestyles. Interests in media include independent film, magazines such as Clash, and websites like Pitchfork Media."


The above entry is from Wikipedia and describes hipsters, which is becoming a wildly popular trend among people my age.  This is ironic because the whole point of being a hipster is to fight against the mainstream and not letting society dictate your views.  I find this method of thought absolute ridiculous.  By specifically not liking things just because other people do, you are still letting society dictate your tastes, just in a round about way.
I cannot, however, act as though I above wanting other people to think my tastes are cool.  There is a good deal of shame involved when I admit to someone that one of my favorite artists is Taylor Swift.  I also enjoy Buddy Holly, The Beatles, and The Velvet Underground.  I am always more eager to announce the latter groups as favorites than the former.  I suppose it has something to do with the idea that the classics are always better and everything that comes out of today's culture is crap.
So objectively, I know that having other people approve my tastes is absurd.  And yet, I still to do it.

Silence

Silence

Amanda Sobczak

There are those that will scorn my love or wish it ill;
I know for sure your girlfriend will;
But what is true love without a fight?
I say so to prove dear Shakespeare right.

The pain and sorrow I wouldn’t miss;
Surely hate is better than this?
But if sweet cruelty is all you can give me,
You can be sure I hold onto it dearly.

I know this poem will go unread;
Selfish love will lead to tears shed;
If writing from your heart is so nice;
Will a scream, a yell, a sob suffice?

It’s hard to believe that a love as tender as mine
Has already been expressed a hundred times;
Since I can’t rely on your love, I’ll trust your kindness:
You keep my heart, I'll keep my silence.