133. Hello, July.

Greetings.

Summer is flying by. Days pass ever so quickly. Its rather absurd if you ask me. Can't life just slow down...just for a little while? That answer is rather easy to speak back to. No...seems ever so appropriate. Therefore I write. I find therapy in pages. I have works going on in all places. This being the last place I jot down happenings mainly because as these random days pass me by I have the minimal to zero time on a computer. If you know me...you would answer that statement with a quick, your sidekick has internet. Ehhh wrong answer try again. My sidekick is not working at the moment. Well, semi working. A work in progress if you will. Its broken. I don't text. I dont aim. I certainly dont go on the internet with it. I need to find time to call TMobile and order a new one. Or not. I dont reaaally need a new one. I have found life to be ever so pleasant without the convenience (or in the case inconvenience) of a cell phone attatched to my fingers from sun up to sun down.

Now what was I saying....ah yes...writings. Therapy in the pages I called it. I am currently in progress with many happenings along with the hectic life I lead. I have a personal journey of writings in which my eyes conveniently locate to only. I then have a book I'm reading. Its easily going to become one of my top 5 favorite books of all time and I know this even if I'm only halfway through the story. I then have an online poetry class to attend to. Lets speak about this.

I took the online poetry class for units. I took it because it was convenient with my schedule and I figured it would have minimal work involved seeing as how all it was was poetry...through a computer. I needed the extra A on my transcript along with 3 units to transfer. It's something I enjoy doing anyway so why not be rewarded for it in the long run. Mistake? ....I'm not sure yet. Its week three and I'm already uneasy. I didn't expect to go in wanting to learn about poetry and history and all of that. I will someday, trust me, but at this point in time I definately dont have the patience to learn the history attatched to this whole idea of words that fit together. Now I assumed this class would be me submitting a poem to my teacher once a week. Six poems...and I'm home free. Ehhh wrong answer...again. There is a discussion board. Yes...a discussion board where I must submit my poems onto each week to subject to critisism by the teacher and 50 some odd students. This would not be a problem. I actually found it interesting to branch my work out to people I dont know and see their reactions. All fun and games and a learning experience. Then....she showed up. She will remain nameless for the simple fact that I dont believe in sharing random people's names all over the internet when I myself dont even know who they are. She (nameless self proclaimed wonder) decides that each poem I write needs a negative comment attatched. Its become quite the pattern. Each comment from her starts with "Now...I know I'm no poet or anything...but". That right there folks...is a dead give away of me being pissed off. Critique my poems until the cows come home. Please do. If you dont like a word or a stanza...feel free to tell me what you didnt appretiate. But from my standpoint...where I see things...no one should ever have to apologize for art...ever...period. And for her telling herself shes not a poet..is a completely degrading statement in itself. Anyone who writes poetry is a poet. Bad poems, good poems...anything. She leaves lavish wonderous comments on each and every persons poems...but mine. I'm not sure if she has it out for me or what...but homegirl should please cool it. Maybe sometime soon I'll write a little poem in honor of her. She will digg it I'm sure.


This is long I know but I feel as though I dont post often enough so when I get around to it...I must make it worthwhile. I will try and come back soon I promise.

"Life is like the blink of an eye. What is that worth? Nothing. But the eye that blinks - that is something. I guess I blinked, on accident. Sometimes, though, I have found accidents to be the most fortuitous events in my life. You meet the one person who reminds you what you are, what you do, how to be happy."

I'm counting.