This is part of a new installment on my Blog called “Better Left Unsaid”, which consists of blog posts I wrote a long time ago but never published, here goes:
Ode to Graduate School
to the days of deep eternal questioning
to the sloth of waking up when the morning glories have swirled shut
to the luxury of sitting around thinking all day
when other people are actively doing and making and helping and struggling and tired.
to that microsecond when I tell a stranger what I do and I feel proud and interesting
only to snap back into my pathetic state of uncertainty, and then shame.
i dont have a real job
i am a disgusting lazy drifter with the illusion of ambition
hiding the filthy secret of waking up at noon
pretending to care, deciding whether to wear the same shirt as yesterday.
i sold my heart for a mind
one that does not suit me
can i go back to the way it was?
millions of years ago
before this pre-frontal cortex started
making things up that aren’t real.
is evolutionary thinking just a deep and
enduring form of intellectual nostalgia?
i have had so many theoretical adventures
all without leaving my apartment
but i want to go home again
to the way it was before i knew
to the way it was when i could still feel
that what i am saying is
biased and absurd and overwrought
and filled with breezy, unexplainable goodness.