you don't mean nothing at all

There are moments when I get so restless and the only thing I can do is reread and edit and tear apart old things, and I think those are the moments when everything is moving and I wouldn't trade them for the world. Last night it really, really hit me that I am not the same girl I was this time last year, and it also hit me that I am so, so very okay with that.
I keep falling into the same trap of forgetting what I should be doing and getting off track, but I think this summer has been good for me. It's made a lot of things a lot clearer.
You know, I'm doing aiight :)

I love you,
Loch.

i refuse to slow down

"I should like to know which is worse: to be raped a hundred times by negro pirates, to have a buttock cut off, to run the gauntlet among the Bulgarians, to be whipped and flogged in an auto-da-fe, to be dissected, to row in a galley- in short, to endure all the miseries through which we have passed, or to remain here doing nothing?"

-Voltaire, Cadide

I want I want I want!

-Loch

wanna be your victim

Today I scribbled onto a napkin while I waited to start my shift at work, and I decided I want a constant stream of music playing everywhere that I go.

Sorry I'm not gonna post anything more interesting. Tonight was a good saturday night.
I love you, I'm not lying,
Loch.

lo hecho está hecho

I really wish I could just chill and write for a while but instead I have to drink as much water as I can and then shower and write an article that I'll prob turn in an hour late and get dinner and then go home and do homework/probably not actually do anything at all.

This blog is turning into a diary, hahh.
I love you,
Loch.


ps. I've used the phrase "lol" twice in the past week. What is going on, vocab.


pss. themonicabird.com/post/3273155431/date-a-girl-who-reads-date-a-girl-who-spends-her
please read that. it is perfect.

getting down in the town

I am in an ecstatic mood for no reason at all. 

<3
Loch


ps. two months :)

but i really can't complain

Today I met with an advisor and planned out the next three years of my life down to what classes I'm taking each semester. There is nothing more exhilirating and head clearing than planning things, except maybe making lists. Maybe. One of those pictures is where I'm going to be this time next year. PS. I stole one of them from another friend who blogs, so if you're looking at this and thinking hey, that bitch took my photo, you're right :p

Things I'm looking forward to

eating

reading my nook before I fall asleep

spring break

summer break

a phone call from this one cute boy

studying abroad in Singapore

graduating early

having better grades

spending more time outside

no more heavy coats

going to class all the time

not cooping myself up in my room

this weekend

the weekend after that

other weekends

new friends and old friends

writing

planning

setting up next semester's schedule

making more lists for you

writing

writing

writing

Love always, 

Loch. 

i ain't perfect

This weekend has been warm enough that Friday I wore a tank top and yesterday/today I donned shorts. The overcast weather is putting me in my favorite kind of thoughtful mood that always seems to work best for me when I'm writing. I keep feeling like  I do during overcast days in July, or late in the afternoon in June or August. Good thing it's fucking February. :)
This weekend was also long and more fun than I've in Austin since I got back for winter break. I think it's cause for a while I was broody for no reason and this weekend I actually did shit, which was entirely worth it, just saying. I have tests this week but for some reason, I just can't bring myself to be worried and I think that tomorrow if the weather is good again I might go to one of my fave spots on campus, this grassy area by a fountain on the east side, and just write for a while and think. This weekend it slowly dawned on me that there are probably a few things that I should be thinking about that I haven't been, and I'm glad.


I love you, I love everyone,
Loch.

ps. I am not a child, stop treating me like one. :)

when it comes to men

The Flea- John Donne

Marke but this flea, and marke in this,

How little that which deny'st me is;

It suck'd me first, and now sucks thee,

And in this flea, our two bloods mingled bee;

Though know'st that this cannot be said

A sinne, nor shame, nor losse of maidenhead,

     Yet this enjoyes before it wooe,

     And pamper'd swells with one blood made of two

     And this, alas, is more than we would doe.

Oh stay, three lives in one flea space,

Where we almost, yea more than maryed are.

This flea is you and I, and this

Our mariage bed, and mariage temple is;

Though parents grudge, and you, w'are met,

And cloysterd in these living walls of Jet.

     Though use make you apt to kill mee,

     Let not to that, selfe murder added bee,

     And sacrilege, three sinnes in killing three.

Cruell and sodaine, hast thou since

Purpled thy nail, in blood of innocence?

Wherein could this flea guilty bee,

Except that drop in which it suckt from three?

Yet thou triumph'st, and saist that thou

Find'st not thy selfe, nor mee the weaker now;

     'Tis true, then learn how false, feares bee;

     Just so much honor, when thou yeeld'st to mee,

     Will wast, as this flea's death to life from thee.

Reflection-

So I read this poem in my senior year of high school and then it popped up again on my poetry syllabus for class a few weeks ago, and it has always been one of my favorites. I think what gets me about it is that it's basically a love poem, but it's completely unconventional and the ideas presented in it are a lot more convincing than the more typical 'I love you so much yay' type of thing.

The way I interpret it is, Donne is basically saying to this woman he's in love with that they are going to end up together because of fate, and this flea is mixing their bloods anyway so they may as well go through with doing whatever they want to because it's pretty much already happened. He says that doing their thang isn't a sinne any more than being bitten by the same flea is a sinne because it's natural, and no one can judge them. It's a strange poem and the title is a little lackluster, plus the sexual innuendos are practically overflowing the page and his end goal is pretty obvious throughout the poem, but in a way I think it's one of the most romantic things I've ever read because he's just talking about how she can't deny that they belong together because even the flea is showing it by taking both of their bloods, and their union is something totally natural and normal and not-scary. I'm a big believer in fate and things being meant to happen, and he plays on that idea a lot, and in an unconventional way I think this poem is really beautiful.

I love you,
Loch.

hide your ring

A Dialogue Between the Soul and Body

Andrew Marvel

Soul

          O Who shall, from this Dungeon, raise

     A Soul enslav'd so many wayes?

     With bolts of Bones, that fetter'd stands

     In Feet; and manacled in Hands.

     Here blinded with an Eye; and there

     Deaf with the drumming of an Ear.

     A Soul hung up, as 'twere, in Chains

     Of Nerves, and Arteries, and Veins.

     Tortur'd, besides each other part,

     In a vain Head, and double Heart.

Body

          O who shall me deliver whole,

     From bonds of this Tyrannic Soul?

     Which, stretcht upright, impales me so,

     That mine own Precipice I go;

     And warms and moves this needless Frame:

     (A Fever could but do the same.)

     And, wanting where its spight to try,

     Has made me live to let me dye.

     A Body that could never rest,

     Since this ill Spirit it possest.

Soul

          What Magick could me thus confine

     Within anothers Grieg to pine?

     Where whatsoever it complain

     I feel, that cannot feel, the pain.

     And all my Care its self employs,

     That to preserve, which me destroys:

     Constrain'd not only to indure

     Diseases but, whats worse, the Cure:

     And ready oft the Port to gain,

     Am Shipwrackt into Health again.

Body

          But Physick yet could never reach

     The Maladies Thou me dost teach;

     Whom first the Cramp of Hope does Tear:

     And then the Palsie Shakes of Fear.

     The Pestilence of Love does heat:

     Or Hatred's hidden Ulcer eat.

     Joy's chearful Madness does perplex:

     Or Sorrow's other Madness vex.

     Which Knowledge forces me to know;

     And Memory will not forgoe.

     What but a Soul could have the wit

     To build me up for Sin so fit?

     So Architects do square and hew

     Green Trees that in the Forest Grew.

Reflections-

I feel like this is probably the most interesting poem we've read during class, and one of the few that doesn't have anything to do with social status, arguing about writing or whatever else, being pompous, or trying to get into someone's pants, although thinking you can predict what a soul and body might say to each other could be construed as a bit self-important if it isn’t done well. However, I don't disagree with anything that Marvel is saying and I think the idea that a mind and body are actually detrimental to each other's health is really fascinating because it’s so unusal. There's a lose-lose situation that isn't really presented in many other texts or ways of thinking. Typically, in religion especially and in a lot of classic literature, the soul is seen as being all-good and the body as its vessel, but adding a negative connotation to either, and particularly to the soul, provides a completely different dimension to the situation.

The back and forth is also really interesting because you don’t usually see personification of a body or of a soul, since they’re kind of part of a person anyway, so you don’t usually think about what they might discuss if given the chance. The two, in my mind at least, don’t separate from one another that often, and the soul is something really abstract that it would be difficult to place a personality on, but Marvel manages to do it really well in a Dialogue between the Soul and Body. I thought the poem was really fascinating.

PS. This is for a class.

Love,

Loch.

there is love in your body

I got a weird feeling tonight so I took a really long walk and listened to music I typically reserve for long, night-time car rides by myself. Somewhere between the fourth and fifth block, I realized that there is only one thing that I know for sure that I want, and everything else could be me just fooling myself. 

I haven't written in a while but I really, really need to. There's wayyyy too much material building up in my head. Also, I drank a weirdly large amount of tea today. Like, hot tea. In place of coffee. Strange?

You are all that I want, always,

Loch.

wake up, my love

Life isn't about being nice. Life is about being happy. There is a difference.

Books are more important than anything. I've been in a funk all day. 

I love you,

Loch

i never had to fit in

I am in a funk, I can't write anything. I'm sorry. I can't even get out anything for my poetry class.
This should sound familiar to you by now, but despite what I'd like, you probably don't know who you are.


I'm sorry I keep breaking promises,
maybe I should stop promising.
Love,
Loch.

you could mean everything

This month deserves one last post, because almost everything changed almost everything has gone my way. If January is any indication, 2011 will be a good year. 

I am constantly amazed at how my best friends continue to be my best friends after months of separation. I had a four hour long skype session with my friend who goes to college in Switzerland, and it was literally no different from our talks in high school. It is genuinely the most comforting thing in the world.

I am changing my major to English.  I think I am honestly happy right now.

One day I'll dedicate a publication to you,
Loch.


PS. My next post will have legitimate writing in it, like a poem or a few paragraphs or something, I promise.

you can do better than me

but I can't do better than you.

The work you do while procrastinating is the work you should be doing for the rest of your life.
-Jessica Nische


Love,
Loch.