“Can we call them Evil? That’s the question” echoed as my professor waved his caffeine shaken hands, professing the only thing I’ve picked up on in the first 20 minutes of this 8am lecture. I think I’m in the midst of terrible allergies or this may be a cold, and my fingertips smell like Coffee**
**(a friend of mine left the classroom only to come back to a floor filled with Iced Latte, since the Mason Jar incident…I feel his pain) (Also, it was a cold. I’m currently editing this on the Sofa eating my famous chicken soup)
“He or she is just doing his work”
To me, this is an art. The way life works. The way you could be thinking of someone and suddenly they’re right there in front of you. And you practice what you’ll say to them over and over in your mind but it never quite comes out the way you planned. The way you tell yourself there’s a world out there without them, and you’re weak if you don’t see it. You’re weak if you’re fighting, and you’re strong if you don’t. When in reality you’re strong because you’re human, and you’re weak because it’s in your nature. Our nature.
We care for individuals on auto-pilot, even if we’re told to act coldly. They never tell you about the part where the fighting ends. They never tell you that you can be completely sure about one individual but hesitate to do anything about it.
Maybe they’re not even present anymore and we keep them alive in our words, and in our art. Who cares? It’s not a sin to make someone exist in your work, without letting your work exist solely because of them. Because unless you’re naming names, they should only exist within your work. There’s no photographs, items of clothing, no scent that lingers, it’s as if every meeting place, and every interaction was like going on vacation without taking a camera with you.
“Nobody knows. It’s my best kept secret” – An excerpt from Diary of An Awkward Girl.
We’re 20. We’re all about experience. We’re allowed to wake up at 10am, wearing one sock, questioning whom we spoke to about our deepest thoughts. We’re allowed to experience some sort of vulnerability. Sometimes we miss our favourite part of the song, so we have to play it again.
I guess everyone holds onto a little Gin and honesty.
Your Metaphorical Absinthe.
Be proud of your work, and be proud of those who inspire it.
I hope the rest of the week comes at you with ease.
Also watch Moonrise Kingdom at some point this week…it’s brilliant.
Until next week,
PS: Don’t walk in the rain with just a pair of Harry Potter socks on.
Copyright © 2015 Daniella Beca MyCompositionNotebook