I'm in English this year at the University, I'm returning to my first love, after a long absence.
It was that old familiar sensation that came back that surprised me. You know, the one that you associate with going back to school, cheesewagons, stale lunch bread, excitement and anxiety all at once.
It was nostalgic, no, it is like living through nostalgia. I'm in English this year, and it's like experiencing my first year all over again. I'm reminded of this as I walk into the first english class of the day, and the teacher is abstract random, like a certain boss I had over summer. I'm reminded of this by the characters that walk in, there's a girl with make up like a geisha, another that is epically Goth, a guy with wire rim glasses who wants to be a author, another, a student from Iceland. You can smell the subculture.
I keep expecting the smell of ozone stress and slight panic I felt all of last year when I was taking the sciences. Instead, I have readings in subjects I find fascinating, instead of nigh incomprehensible. Metaphor is my territory again, no longer am I wandering in the strange land of nucleic acids, Lewis structures and elimination reactions. Some parts of today felt like walking through a waking dream, waiting for me to wake up and realize that I'm on a path I'd turned away from.
I have poetry class next. Oh sweet simile, rapturous rhyme and rhythm!
Yeah, I'm a geek.
1 comment:
Coming home. Indeed. I expect from you more sonnets, punctuated by breaths on the pipe, floating lazily down branches bereft of green as the last lingers of autumn drift down to my feet.
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