Dreams
by Langston Hughes
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
Life is Fine
by Langston Hughes
I went down to the river,
I set down on the bank.
I tried to think but couldn't,
So I jumped in and sank.
I came up once and hollered!
I came up twice and cried!
If that water hadn't a-been so cold
I might've sunk and died.
But it was Cold in that water! It was cold!
I took the elevator
Sixteen floors above the ground.
I thought about my baby
And thought I would jump down.
I stood there and I hollered!
I stood there and I cried!
If it hadn't a-been so high
I might've jumped and died.
But it was High up there! It was high!
So since I'm still here livin',
I guess I will live on.
I could've died for love--
But for livin' I was born
Though you may hear me holler,
And you may see me cry--
I'll be dogged, sweet baby,
If you gonna see me die.
Life is fine! Fine as wine! Life is fine!
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Thursday, December 08, 2005
One sight for sore eyes
The Van Pelt Library at UPenn, on a weekday night during exam period is surely a sight to see. Every desk, chair, and computer terminal was occupied. There wasn’t even a place to sit on the sofas and lounge chairs. The little space that seemed available from far away revealed papers and bookbags on closer inspection, evidence that some late-nighter would return. I was actually crowded out of the library. (It’s sad). I laughed, chatted with the security guard, and went to the lesser-known Engineering lab instead.
Sunday, December 04, 2005
Excerpts from a Letter
Didn't get as much work done as I wanted to. Plenty earlier, but not now. Spent too much time losing heart about work. Wrote the following earlier to a friend, not included in its entirety, but enough to paint a picture
"I’ve been working so hard in the past few weeks, I haven’t had much time to get out and socialize. I feel like I’ve sacrificed one need for another, and placed career once more before friends. It isn’t exactly that dire -- nothing, physically, has changed. I have not lost or angered any new friends, but I feel like I spent so much time working, I haven’t been able to forge new ones! This is my first semester here, and (breathless) what a rush everything has been, but now it is ending, my finals are eminent, I am contemplating what to do when the majority of the students leave for winter break, and I am confronted with the harsh reality that I really haven’t nurtured many friendships at all! It isn’t so bad -- I’m not here to network or win a popularity contest, but when I look back on my day, I see all that I’ve accomplished, but also that I have no one to share it with, no one! It is then that I entertain notions of life being sad, work being futile, and all of those nihilistic, cynical, existential views of life being true!"
"I received your last letter warmly. ... How I wish you were here, and we could reminisce, and talk about our families, teachers, frustrations, and theories. UPenn is everything I wanted it to be, but my time here has not been perfect. I took on too many obligations to save a little time and money, and I’m not sure how far it has all gotten me. I try not to worry every day. There is no one to listen to me. I have one friend who I see regularly, but he breaks schedules and does not listen very well."
"You really shouldn't let me wander off on tangents so much. There is just so much that has gone on since I saw you last. I miss you. I did not want it to be this way exactly, but I suppose more has gone right for me than has gone wrong, and that is something to be grateful for. I have so many things to do now. You'll hear from me again. Take care."
"I’ve been working so hard in the past few weeks, I haven’t had much time to get out and socialize. I feel like I’ve sacrificed one need for another, and placed career once more before friends. It isn’t exactly that dire -- nothing, physically, has changed. I have not lost or angered any new friends, but I feel like I spent so much time working, I haven’t been able to forge new ones! This is my first semester here, and (breathless) what a rush everything has been, but now it is ending, my finals are eminent, I am contemplating what to do when the majority of the students leave for winter break, and I am confronted with the harsh reality that I really haven’t nurtured many friendships at all! It isn’t so bad -- I’m not here to network or win a popularity contest, but when I look back on my day, I see all that I’ve accomplished, but also that I have no one to share it with, no one! It is then that I entertain notions of life being sad, work being futile, and all of those nihilistic, cynical, existential views of life being true!"
"I received your last letter warmly. ... How I wish you were here, and we could reminisce, and talk about our families, teachers, frustrations, and theories. UPenn is everything I wanted it to be, but my time here has not been perfect. I took on too many obligations to save a little time and money, and I’m not sure how far it has all gotten me. I try not to worry every day. There is no one to listen to me. I have one friend who I see regularly, but he breaks schedules and does not listen very well."
"You really shouldn't let me wander off on tangents so much. There is just so much that has gone on since I saw you last. I miss you. I did not want it to be this way exactly, but I suppose more has gone right for me than has gone wrong, and that is something to be grateful for. I have so many things to do now. You'll hear from me again. Take care."
Impulse arrested spills over
Some light reading before heavy exam time. …I must motivate myself to learn science, true science, which is deep and realistic, and not the superficial stuff science fiction is based on. Revisiting passages from Brave New World. This is fiction, and dystopian at that, but it’s well written. Makes one want to study and feel that one’s work is important. So divided on opinions on Aldous Huxley, (love his intelligence, but hate his convictions) but not enough time to explore that now. What I need now is motivation. I have it. Time to get to work.
“Mother, monogamy, romance. High spurts the fountain; fierce and foamy the wild jet. The urge has but a single outlet. My love, my baby. No wonder these poor pre-moderns were mad and wicked and miserable. Their world didn't allow them to take things easily, didn't allow them to be sane, virtuous, happy. What with mothers and lovers, what with the prohibitions they were not conditioned to obey, what with the temptations and the lonely remorses, what with all the diseases and the endless isolating pain, what with the uncertainties and the poverty–they were forced to feel strongly. And feeling strongly (and strongly, what was more, in solitude, in hopelessly individual isolation), how could they be stable?”
“Impulse arrested spills over, and the flood is feeling, the flood is passion, the flood is even madness: it depends on the force of the current, the height and strength of the barrier. The unchecked stream flows smoothly down its appointed channels into a calm well-being. (The embryo is hungry; day in, day out, the blood-surrogate pump unceasingly turns its eight hundred revolutions a minute. The decanted infant howls; at once a nurse appears with a bottle of external secretion. Feeling lurks in that interval of time between desire and its consummation. Shorten that interval, break down all those old unnecessary barriers.”
--Aldous Huxley, Brave New World, chp 3
“Mother, monogamy, romance. High spurts the fountain; fierce and foamy the wild jet. The urge has but a single outlet. My love, my baby. No wonder these poor pre-moderns were mad and wicked and miserable. Their world didn't allow them to take things easily, didn't allow them to be sane, virtuous, happy. What with mothers and lovers, what with the prohibitions they were not conditioned to obey, what with the temptations and the lonely remorses, what with all the diseases and the endless isolating pain, what with the uncertainties and the poverty–they were forced to feel strongly. And feeling strongly (and strongly, what was more, in solitude, in hopelessly individual isolation), how could they be stable?”
“Impulse arrested spills over, and the flood is feeling, the flood is passion, the flood is even madness: it depends on the force of the current, the height and strength of the barrier. The unchecked stream flows smoothly down its appointed channels into a calm well-being. (The embryo is hungry; day in, day out, the blood-surrogate pump unceasingly turns its eight hundred revolutions a minute. The decanted infant howls; at once a nurse appears with a bottle of external secretion. Feeling lurks in that interval of time between desire and its consummation. Shorten that interval, break down all those old unnecessary barriers.”
--Aldous Huxley, Brave New World, chp 3
Saturday, December 03, 2005
"Oft expectation fails, and most oft there / Where most it promises; and oft it hits / Where hope is coldest, and despair most fits."
--W.S., All's Well That Ends Well (II, i, 145-147)
Some days are just long -- long, long, boring and shadowed with the cloud of inescapable tasks. I have an exam this Wednesday, and another one (a final) immediately following on Thursday. I may not see the light of day this week.
Some days are just long -- long, long, boring and shadowed with the cloud of inescapable tasks. I have an exam this Wednesday, and another one (a final) immediately following on Thursday. I may not see the light of day this week.
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