Fatigue is a nasty beast. It creeps up on you when you only want to be productive. It destroys your creative process. And most of all, it comes back again and again for more — a little like a laser made out of a Celine Dion album. Except only half as lethal. Over the past month, I’ve had an average of six hours of sleep — give or take the thirty minutes that I spend waking up randomly throughout the night. It’s absolutely nuts that I’m still able to function, given my inability to do anything without fifteen hours of sleep (roughly). But in return for my, I don’t know, potentially dangerous contribution to the human work ethic, I’ve regained my sense of responsibility — and my tremendous collection of pens. My applications for college are almost done, well ahead of the January deadline, and my grades and test scores have pulled me through what I would normally call THE VOID OF STUPID. It’s odd that things could, numerically, be working so beautifully for me while I feel as if my life-blood is leaking out through my ears. I haven’t gotten a single creative thing done since the month started. Not a single piece of writing, only one really coherent post (I’ve been planning to do a redux on my Ron Paul post, because I feel that I’ve never been quite clear, and to my chagrin, I came out sounding a little floaty. And my god, we can’t have floaty. Heffalumps are floaty, and look where they ended up. That’s right — Poland), and no significant contributions to the worlds of art or science. So much for my Nobel Prize in Awesome.
And, like usual, there are still things to do. Candy to buy. The front of the house to decorate. The dog to rescue from the cactus. Hopefully November will be kinder to my brain. Anyways, happy Halloween!
Read 2 comments (Leave a comment?)
Mimzy said:
Hi! Thanks for the comment, and I’m glad you liked my poem.
Your reference to “The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock” was very ironic because, after I wrote my poem, I’d written a post on my Xanga blog about it, and analyzed where I might have gotten the inspiration for it, and, indeed, that particular poem of Elliot’s (and that particular line) came up, because I love that poem and figured I might have been influenced by it. :D
~Mimzy
Posted on November 20, 2007 5:11 PM; Permalink
Ranjani said:
Mimzy: I love the poem too! We read it in English last year and I remember carrying my literature book around just to read it over and over again. It goes here and there and tugs at your imagination in ways that very few poems can do for me. I mean, that’s the purpose of a poem — expression.
You know what? I think I’m going to print it out and put it on my folder right next to all of my quotes (last year I had Vachel Lindsay’s “The Congo” and Percy Bysshe Shelley’s “Ozymandius” on my folder, both of which I still love.)
Posted on November 21, 2007 12:32 AM; Permalink