Day 5: An Apple Floats, While A Pear Sinks

I'm pretty jaded. Not by the challenge, heavens no. My daily routine is starting to take its toll on the speed of my functioning brain. It's not processing images and sounds as fast as I need it to be. I'm actually glad over my rather casual choices I've made for October, save for the extravagant plaid top and the monochromatic cardigan, since I can just simply put them on, and rush out of the room. I'm not saying that that happened this morning, but there will be times when it does. I'll try to conjure something spicy for tomorrow. There's a person who've caught my attention.

An additional mini challenge I've set up for myself: Contribute 3 pages to my novel everyday. It's good practice and I honestly think I have to start kicking myself every night to work my ass.

In which, I was 15 minutes late for my Late American Lit. class today. That's never happened before. I never intended it to. I also forgot to print out the poem we had to revise for class. "This Is Just To Say" by Williams Carlos Williams. A post it note on a refrigerator, transformed into concealed anguish towards a person close to me. Here's my version of Williams's poem:

I have been

awake for

an entire night

while you slept

and you

didn't hear

the alarm ring

every five minutes

Forgive me

for throwing

it

through the window

Those unfamiliar with the original, might not view this as poetry. Frankly, I think not too. But that's the assignment.

I need an opinion. An opinion is crucial for any writer. An opinion decides if the writer has a say on anything. An opinion dictates how an entire work of fiction is molded into a timeless relic. Prof. Danforth says I might be overwhelming myself with my novel, which I believe so too. And this isn't the first. I wish to experiment with stylization, language, perspectives, setting, naturalistic post-apocalyptic societies... The usual. Very ambitious, needless to say.

...

As I type that I recall Mary Stillwell, this English lecturer I had who informed us about the funny nature of certain phrases. "Never say 'needless to say.' If it's that unimportant, why pen it?" I agree. Though, sometimes, these so called redundancies have its cradle tucked in the very beginning of a sentence, creating this wall of security. "It sounds right to place it there."

But I have not been very pleased with my work ethics lately. Film theory excluded, my other courses are but individual sandcastles on the beach, arranged ten feet away from each other. I scramble to perfect their structures, but the waves that started out teasing, now begin to slap the barricades I've fortified around four of my castles. So I thought, "maybe it's best if I focused on one, and perfect it." But now, I'm beginning to doubt that decision. I would need to devise a more systematic plan for subsequent ramifications. One of these castles is close to completion. Now, the other four need saving.

Oh here comes the familiar jingle, an ice cream truck. I run towards it, back facing the five brittle structures lining the bay. Rhythmic white foams lap the caramelized sands, occasionally coming dangerously close to my structures. My sweet and colorful distraction, pulling me away from my laborious occupation. Indulgence never felt more sinful, as I lasciviously worked my tongue around swirls of vanilla and chocolate. That momentary sweetness as it sticks to my tastebuds, before evaporating into the abyss of my throat.

Metaphors explained, the ice cream ain't crack or booze or anything like that. I waste time, just never in that order. But yes, I am a little disappointed with my in-class writing exercises. I know I can do better, but I'm always too tired, and that's no excuse.

Today for QI, Stephen Fry displayed a simple experiment to differentiate a pear from an apple, without tasting them. Of course, the shapes generally segregate the two fruits, but there are the occasional ambiguous ones. So, how does one do it? Just throw the fruits into a bucket of water, and the fruit that floats is the apple, while the one that sinks is the pear.

I want to be the apple. I might not necessarily like it, but I'd rather gasp for air, than drown alone.