you know something, i miss going to school (which is different from missing school).

i really enjoyed literature lessons and learning about things and discussing issues in gp class. even history, i do miss. math i don't miss at all of course. but i really miss having literature lessons and just becoming enriched with what whitby is helping us see in a poem or what ideas ms champagne is discussing or the discussions we're having during gp class. the opportunity to air my views. yes, i miss talking about all these things. nowadays i feel so frustrated like i'm going to burst because i lack an outlet with which to discuss STUFF - i want to know so much more about certain things and hear about them from other people who know about them and just have a good intellectual discussion. but i can't! instead i am just reduced to slush which is awfully frustrating. i really wish i could go back and teach and maybe try and move my brains a bit by doing that but instead i'm starting my job next week. i hope it will enriching and interesting.

i can't wait for university! i'm bursting with the need to learn and know about things! comparative literature, the morality of art, love in art, all these interesting interesting modules that can be taken in university. i'm going through this Mod-Pop art phase right now and i find Andy Warhol and his gang very intriguing. Edie Sedgewick, mmm, I can't wait for Factory Girl to hit the screens.

sigh! perhaps in this aspect, teaching really is the path for me. i've been hearing horror stories from my other friends relief teaching though, so i guess i just have to try it out some time on my own to see how it is for me. i want to feel mentally exhausted, which i never am nowadays, obviously.

on another note, it was nice to meet with some old friends this past week. angela, dawn and jenny. angela and her hilarious antics (CARROT CAKE!) and dawn just being dawn with the very cute look she gives when angela says something questionable. jen and i fell back into our usual routine, we went to watch a movie none of our other friends really wanted to watch and then we talked about it and then we had a meal. and she had her Brownies with Ice cream. the last movie we caught together was Be With Me and it's nice to know some things are still the same. i've caught countless movies with jen, Broken Flowers being the one we watched last night. it was only so-so in my opinion - it was branded with the sort of humour i enjoy but i feel there wasn't else much to it for me. we're thinking of catching Le Grand Voyage soon.

i've been thinking about God a lot lately, more than i ever have before. maybe because the past few nights have been rough and He's the only one i could really turn to for solace. i feel guilty because when i need Him, i say YES i'm going to commit completely to the Lord, He is my number 1 priority. yet the next day, when things are all calmer and better i just forget. it's a sort of schizophrenia. last night i thought i had come to the conclusion that God was infinitely better than art. which He is - my mind knows this, but my heart refuses to give in and renounce everything else for Him. either way, struggle or not, i must make a conscious effort to spend more time with Him. ED was good for me, the weekly prayers and reflections. i hope it starts up again soon.

The Temper

How should I praise thee, Lord! how should my rymes
Gladly engrave thy love in steel,
If what my soul doth feel sometimes,
My soul might ever feel!

Although there were some fortie heav’ns, or more,
Sometimes I peere above them all;
Sometimes I hardly reach a score,
Sometimes to hell I fall.

O rack me not to such a vast extent;
Those distances belong to thee:
The world’s too little for thy tent,
A grave too big for me.

Wilt thou meet arms with man, that thou dost stretch
A crumme of dust from heav’n to hell?
Will great God measure with a wretch?
Shall he thy stature spell?

O let me, when thy roof my soul hath hid,
O let me roost and nestle there:
Then of a sinner thou art rid,
And I of hope and fear.

Yet take thy way; for sure thy way is best:
Stretch or contract me, thy poore debter:
This is but tuning of my breast,
To make the musick better.

Whether I flie with angels, fall with dust,
Thy hands made both, and I am there:
Thy power and love, my love and trust
Make one place ev’ry where

Herbie tells it like it is.

+ posted by M @ 1:28 PM