Grey blankets on the ground
Sandwiched under by navy
Sit and watch the silence
Watch it, till it’s pierced
By a single long beep,
As the grey turns to white
And the navy to bright,
And as the soft white underneath
Is tiled by a tarmac sheet
With a beep beep bleep,
The day has begun.
All you like
With a glide
In your footsteps
Hold your chin up
Like you have somewhere to
And purpose to show
In every pace you
And they approach
With the briefest look in the
That doesn’t give away my
Back to my back
To let it all out
In a jelly wobble.
Walking through new buildings looking for a study space is one of the most psychological experiences I have in a day.
I know most people are only trying to help, but when I’m in a new building and looking around for someplace I might want to plop and get working, I really don’t want you asking me, “Where do you want to go?”
Am I lost? Yes, I’m lost. Can you help me? No, because I don’t know where I want to go. Yes, you’ve been around this building for years and years and know every inch of it by the inhale at the start of the syllable it begins with, but you still can’t help me, and I don’t want to stick around and hear it.
I know you’re being nice, but I’m just feeling like there’s impending judgement. Just don’t acknowledge me. I’ll find somewhere to sit.
Apart from that, exploring new buildings is also admittedly one of the coolest things you can do, because as a student, you’re legally allowed to just walk into a random building and it’s not trespassing, and you get to live out your Dora The Explorer dreams.
I got me supplies, let’s go!
What do you find exciting in a normal day? And what terrifies you, even though it’s totally normal?
Here’s a little mind chow: why do so many kids want dogs? I know it looks really good through a good quality camera in a sunlit picture with tons of grass behind, but here’s the thing: you probably have never seen a good quality camera in your life and have accepted your iPhone as a permanent substitute, there are no “sunny” days in the winter, and going by the climate reports, there isn’t much of that grassy plain left for you and the pup to roll in.
I’m serious, we’re more city-kid than we’d ever thought we were. For example, I had a little trouble digesting spring allergies, and it’s not because I never had heard of them before. Spring fever, hay fever, pollen allergies, they’re all fundamentally your body attacking spring because it thought it was something dangerous. Putting it this way, your body has no idea that spring’s just this harmless, temporary reprieve from the winter and reacts to it the way you did if you saw a flying dog in supers garb, i.e., undies.
… Just to be really clear, I meant surprise, shock, whatever. Something tells me a lot of first reactions would probably be to whip out a Real Good Quality phone camera and yell, “Awwww!!” as they film.
That’s probably why a lot of kids think a dog is a great idea.
I don’t have spring allergies though. I don’t think I’ve had enough regular, periodic exposure to spring, pollen, grassy smells or clean, non-city air enough for my body to recognise it and go, “Here we go again team, those damned seeds are back again! Lock into anti-seed mode; nose! I’m gonna need all the ammunition you can get! Call on Sinus and Lung for backup, hear?”
“Eyes, you’ll have to gain system attention, signal that idiot to get out of there on the double and back to safety indoors! No one likes casualties and we can do to avoid an unnecessary fight.”
“Sir, I don’t think that’s how it—” “Water!!” “Oh well, if you insist.”
“Pores, get ready! The bigger you appear to your enemy, the greater the intimidation. Swell up those arms and legs, soldiers!”
“Sir, I think you’re cooking up the wrong allerg—”
“PREPARE FOR WAR, FIENDS OF SPRING!!!”
At any rate, why I’m so familiar with them is probably because literally everybody else in my house seems to be a walking weather cursing machine.
I’d only really given that sort of credit to dust allergies before. That seems more up my run down city alley. *Cough, cough* *Sneeze!!*
So the dogs. God help you if you’re also allergic to them or their hair. That perfect photograph with the spring and the dog and the dust gathering on it must really be the perfect nightmare for you. Why kids want dogs, I cannot fathom. Dogs are too much like people. My cousins’ puppy runs away from new people in an explicit fashion that my own social anxiety finds admirable. Because if there’s one thing worse than having to talk to people, it’s both parties being awkward, and then you going the extra length to make it seem like you’re not awkward, only for you to realise afterwards that your trying too hard probably made your awkwardness more obvious and then you worry to death that the next time you catch a glimpse of them you’re going to remember the incident and will need to find a place to hide, but in truth, (in my case, at least) you don’t even remember who they are the next time, but they, my friend, remember everything. So much for your personal Annexe.
The other thing with dogs being so similar to humans, is that you, the kid, need to manage them. It’s like going through puberty while you’re still going through puberty. It’s like volunteering to go through puberty for someone else. Maybe if this ever became official a theory, schools and convicts would start counting dog-keeping towards their hours of community service.
That’ll be the day.
In the meanwhile, if you want a pup, try some PUP. I’m really just throwing in this link because I’m happy to not be looking at NYC or Seattle in videos for a change. And because it’s nice to see Toronto again.
Keep that hair short
And your eyes up
Off your phone
In vigilant zone
And your jacket zipped
And face, a calm ocean.
And devoid of all emotion
And do truly believe
For all intents and purposes
To be ordinary works fine
Works to slip in with the masses
So is this a military test?
A spy mission to disperse unrest
With the world at our behest?
Well, don’t raise an eyebrow
Don’t bat a lid;
That’s just our everyday
You’ve got to keep warm, leave early, brave the winds, activate X-Ray vision to see through the snow, perform the most elaborate rituals to ensure a snowstorm brings down that crucial midterm taking place tomorrow…
It’s definitely an elaborate season. And running around all the time, it’s easy to forget to breathe in, even when you can see your own breath in front of you, and Moreno importantly, to keep warm, in spite of the numerous white reminders tapping on your forehead.
So I decided, in the general spirit of doing good, to make people a little reminder.
I drew it up on a particularly snowy day in my residence dining hall while studying French from a library textbook, and I did, for two whole minutes, seriously consider returning the book with an added token of gratitude slipped inside.
In fact, I’m warming up to the fact again.
(See what I did there?)
So be a nice person today.
Pass this around and remind your friends to keep warm, and above all: snort soup, dress warm and snuggly in your velvet mystic robe, and practice them dark arts of snowing days in!
You don’t get paid for punishment. You get paid to do something useful. Help someone out. Put some skills to use.
And sure, there are a million people out there with the exact same skills as you. Why do we inherently bend ourselves backwards to believe that something Worth Doing must be something you’d consider a chore, something you have to slog for, something you don’t necessarily jump out of bed to do?
Why don’t we just do what we like then? Is it a bad thing to ask to be doing something in life that you like to do? Is it somehow ‘less worthy’?
It isn’t ‘lucky’ when I do something that I like. It shouldn’t be. You shouldn’t be sighing and telling me I’m one lucky bugger to be doing something I like if I am, because it’s not normally how ‘the world works’.
The whole idea of working and earning was a completely human-made process. So as a human in the system, I’m just that. A human. Not a cog in the wheel. I should decide.
I shouldn’t be sitting around here taking moment long guilty pleasure breaks to do something I like. I should be able to do it when I like, with no shame. No guilt. No “it was fun while it lasted, but now I gotta burn this bridge, hide this away, out of sight, out of mind, and get back to work”.
In all honesty, it kind of sucks. I don’t get to be this age again. It shouldn’t be in your place to tell me to wait until I’m forty. Wait until it’s all over. Hide away from everything that calls me and shut my ears tight and yell ‘ladiladila, I can’t hear you!’ just like you did. Just because you did.
It tires me out. And I know I’d never ever wear of certain things. It’s not a phase. Half your life is not a phase. We can pretend it will wear away. Maybe it will someday. But not for the reasons you think it will.
It won’t ‘grow out’, it’ll die.
And with that, I should probably admit that this was more cathartic than substantial, and put my phone down and get back on with my physics. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. I just wish I could stop pretending I didn’t love some other stuff too. I wish I could pretend it really isn’t for me.
But that probably will never happen.
Or maybe it will. But the effort it takes to make it is probably less than the effort it will take me to kill it.