I have reached a new point in my life I am not proud of

Well,

I have caved. I have succumbed (succame?). I find these blogs to be pathetic, yet addictive. Why are they so interesting? They are not nearly poetic, nor spouting eternal Truths. I guess it's just a step beyond Reality TV; now we can bitch and moan without being censored yet still deal with personal difficulty, anguish, and strife. I mean, LOOK AT THAT!!! WHAT AM I TALKING ABOUT???

I think my point is made.

So, here I am beginning what, undoubtedly, will take up too much of my time (of which I have not nearly enough), and will not supply any answers to my problems whatsoever. I mean, by the time I post something that's bothering me and get the response, I will have most likely already dealt with it. Unless, I post a life changing event that will stay with me a long time, in which case a little comment made by someone else will probably not effect my decision anyway. So, there you have it.

Let's move beyond this, shall we?

I will try to focus this blog (by the way, I figured out that "blog" is referring to a "web-log," and, since the "wuh" sound just takes too much time it is circumsized to "blog") on positive things if I can. I'm sure occasionally I will have to vent something, but the internet is full of so much negativity (aside from the endless streams of effulgent porn) that I will make my stand here in my circumsized weblog.

Today was a rough one in my teaching team, but as I said, I'm not going to get into that. Instead, I'll focus on this HBO Def Poetry Slam dealy we watched in our preparation time. It was pretty good. I actually stole the rhyme of pathetic and aesthetic from that. It was a great rhyme. I noticed (not just from this viewing, but over the course of the last couple of years) that when I feel something is significant, or strikes a certain chord within me, I get chills. That seems so cliche, but, quite literally, I get goose-bumps and a chill up my spine when someone (typically through some sort of active medium (i.e. play, movie, poetry recitation)) says something with great weight, feeling, or meaning. It's a good feeling. It lets me know that I actually can care about things. I get bogged (that's bogged, not blogged) down so much by analyzing books, studying poetry and philosophy (well, sometimes) that I question everything, even my own existence. This makes me feel so alone that I want to shut off sometimes. But, it's through moments like I described, and thoughts of Kelly that I know I can feel. It's almost worth the depression (I'll call it that for lack of a better word, though I assure you I am not depressed) to get those moments of life. It's a good feeling. It's a good feeling.

I think that is enough for the first 'blog. Later, I hope to post a poem that a student in my World Lit I class (the class I co-teach) wrote the first week. It's so good. I think it's called I Am the Spooky Man. If it's not called that, that's the chorus at least. Man, it's so vivid and creepy. He's just the nicest kid in the world, though. He's a rising 9th grader yet is much more advanced than some of the 12th graders. He clearly does not need to take our class but is doing so to strengthen his English (he's a second language learner). Okay. I'll leave you with that. And please, let me know who "you" is. I'm curious as to who actually reads this. That's all from Beantown. Oh. Yeah. Beantown. I have not seen, nor heard any reference to any bean at any time in this city. I gotta look into that.