"Have you ever felt passionate about an issue in one of your classes? Have
you experienced a debate in class you think could make a difference in the
way we see the world? Have works you done in classes mean more to you
than just a grade? Bildung is a UCI undergraduate journal dedicated to
expanding undergraduate scholarship beyond the classrooms. Grounded in
the humanities, Bildung encourages new ideas, criticisms, and innovations
in art, literature, science, culture, and society. Bildung would like to
invite you to contribute to our Spring Issue. We are welcoming essays (10
pages max), research projects, and creative projects. New and innovative
formats are also welcome. Works you've done in class, personal research,
and diaries/journals are usually great sources to consider. This is also
an opportunity for you to start publishing your works. Don't hesitate!
Let your voice be heard and make a difference."
I think I might do this, and I think that I'll use this blog as a jumping-off point.
Hmmmm. That means I have to adhere to a schedule of posts, and I won't be writing whenever I feel like it. And that also means slight to heavy editing to past posts to make it more readable, I guess. But I kind of want to see how far this can go, so yep! It sounds like fun :D
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Experimentin'!
Yo yo yo yo Imma gonna try something new, ya hear? Ya heard!
*ahem*
I saw you on the bathroom floor, and the first thing I thought was that you needed to get moving, because you just looked sad down there, lying on the ground. You were like a flower with its petals forced open; limbs splayed along the linoleum floor, unable to heave your body up and about. A small trail of vomit led from your mouth to a tiny puddle near your face, your face which was paler than chalk, then flour; you looked ghostly. It was kind of funny at first when I saw you on the ground though, and when you threw me that thumbs up I knew you'd be okay. I looked at you, but I wasn't afraid of you dying. I just wasn't too sure you were alive, either.
Experimenting is the method that we use to define the possible ramifications of an unconventional action that one doesn't usually take. I came back today, my shirt soaked in the smells of smoke and alcohol. I can remember myself sitting on that stool, my head suddenly heavier than a planet, following its own movement to boot. It was the only thing that helped me keep my balance. Sitting there silently, I thought to myself, "the kind of girl you'd want to attract will not do this with you." I looked around the room. Girls with smeared makeup, peeling in layers. Their breasts spilling out of their shirts. Their voices hollering, their arms flailing, with no discretion or cognizance, and I kept thinking to myself, "even in the dim haze that is your perception you can tell these girls aren't the classiest acts around."
We go out of our comfort zones to get a better sense of who we are, to know what makes us the person we've become. I mean, why though? Do we really need to know ourselves that well to enjoy life? Especially considering how easy it is for one change their whims and their tastes and whatnot. We're already involved with the journey, so the make of the vehicle won't really affect the final destination, right? Just enjoy the ride. But hey, I found out that in order to get what I want I need to know what I want (duh). In order to find a person that is suitable for me, I need to know what I need to find for me. And the only way to look at that is to, um, experiment.
So I'm assured in leaving you behind. I don't know you and you don't know me but deep down we know just enough to know it won't work. Colon/parenthesis. :( Don't worry about it though, I'll be okay! colon/capital D :D
Experimenting is okay though. I mean, in that haze of inebriation I should've felt more contempt and pity towards myself. I was going to become that drunk on the floor, that girl who only concerns herself with fun and nothing else. It's hard to explain, but I feel okay. I've only done it so many times; with this night I'm pretty sure the number of times I can count has almost needed a second hand. And when I finally raise up that extra finger, I will feel proud. Because at least I tried to do something that really isn't me, and hey I'm one step closer to getting what I want.
(on a side note. I don't think I can um *toke* up ever again. Also lay off the drinks brah.)
*ahem*
I saw you on the bathroom floor, and the first thing I thought was that you needed to get moving, because you just looked sad down there, lying on the ground. You were like a flower with its petals forced open; limbs splayed along the linoleum floor, unable to heave your body up and about. A small trail of vomit led from your mouth to a tiny puddle near your face, your face which was paler than chalk, then flour; you looked ghostly. It was kind of funny at first when I saw you on the ground though, and when you threw me that thumbs up I knew you'd be okay. I looked at you, but I wasn't afraid of you dying. I just wasn't too sure you were alive, either.
Experimenting is the method that we use to define the possible ramifications of an unconventional action that one doesn't usually take. I came back today, my shirt soaked in the smells of smoke and alcohol. I can remember myself sitting on that stool, my head suddenly heavier than a planet, following its own movement to boot. It was the only thing that helped me keep my balance. Sitting there silently, I thought to myself, "the kind of girl you'd want to attract will not do this with you." I looked around the room. Girls with smeared makeup, peeling in layers. Their breasts spilling out of their shirts. Their voices hollering, their arms flailing, with no discretion or cognizance, and I kept thinking to myself, "even in the dim haze that is your perception you can tell these girls aren't the classiest acts around."
We go out of our comfort zones to get a better sense of who we are, to know what makes us the person we've become. I mean, why though? Do we really need to know ourselves that well to enjoy life? Especially considering how easy it is for one change their whims and their tastes and whatnot. We're already involved with the journey, so the make of the vehicle won't really affect the final destination, right? Just enjoy the ride. But hey, I found out that in order to get what I want I need to know what I want (duh). In order to find a person that is suitable for me, I need to know what I need to find for me. And the only way to look at that is to, um, experiment.
So I'm assured in leaving you behind. I don't know you and you don't know me but deep down we know just enough to know it won't work. Colon/parenthesis. :( Don't worry about it though, I'll be okay! colon/capital D :D
Experimenting is okay though. I mean, in that haze of inebriation I should've felt more contempt and pity towards myself. I was going to become that drunk on the floor, that girl who only concerns herself with fun and nothing else. It's hard to explain, but I feel okay. I've only done it so many times; with this night I'm pretty sure the number of times I can count has almost needed a second hand. And when I finally raise up that extra finger, I will feel proud. Because at least I tried to do something that really isn't me, and hey I'm one step closer to getting what I want.
(on a side note. I don't think I can um *toke* up ever again. Also lay off the drinks brah.)
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