Forewarning: Long, self-absorbed post ahead. I have a childish love of putting things in absolutist terms. For years I have tormented my mother by trying to get her to answer my “desert island questionnaire,” asking questions like, “What’s your one favorite painting?” or “What’s the best dessert you’ve eaten ever?” I like to ask other people these questions because… Continue reading “I still have the power to die”
In ninth grade I had one of the most profound experiences of my life–or maybe it wasn’t an experience at all. Maybe more of a feeling…Because it was a dream, and who knows what that is? I have decided that describing what happened in this dream is where I will draw the line for what is… Continue reading Dylar
My first semester at USC I was extremely lonely, and to assuage that loneliness I read (and read, and read.) I read thousands of pages for my philosophy and literature classes, but there was still time without human company that needed to be filled, so I took to reading The Atlantic cover-to-cover. I chose that magazine in particular… Continue reading Death in a Dream Song
As a child, the most exciting part of my father’s job was that he received a plethora of free DVDs. This meant that my brother and I watched a lot of films, most of which were not meant for someone our age. When I was in third grade we got Everything Is Illuminated, and I was instantly taken… Continue reading Is Everything Illuminated?
In a slight departure, this week I will not be writing about a traditional work of literature, but rather examining the theme of death through a song. That being said, I am of the opinion that song lyrics, at least of a certain caliber, are a type of poetry. The song is called “Fourth of July,”… Continue reading “Tell me what did you learn?”
In keeping this blog, something I’ve noticed is that the most resonant works of literature do not restrict themselves to a single topic, but rather create a world that skirts as many subjects as our own lives. Ocean Vuong’s poem “Notebook Fragments” is indubitably one such work, especially because it is composed of what Kierkegaard might call… Continue reading “Good or Bad?”
Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar is a cliché. It is stereotyped such that it might as well be a membership card Sad Girlz Club Worldwide–it’s the marker of that archetypal girl who writes poetry to cope with her depression and wears quirky, unshapely clothes but still hopes the boy of her dreams will pop out of a… Continue reading “Blank and Stopped as a Dead Baby”