Thursday, October 23, 2008

You stay Johanna, the way I dreamed you were

I just got out of my Ethics class, having totally beasted the midterm. *Aaaaahohbighugesighohmygoodnesssuchreeeeelaxaaaation*

Beautiful.

Anywho, I've been thinking about The Great Gatsby and a poem I wrote in tenth grade. (Side note: When did tenth grade become so far in the past? I remember so vividly feeling old and being amazed with my in depth venture into teenagery- Only to now think back on how I still had no idea what was going on. It makes me wonder about how grown up I feel now. Do we ever figure out what is really going on? Do we ever stop growing up? Or is life a continuous series of lessons making us feel older and older and more wise and wizened with each step and stumble? Does anyone really learn how to walk?) Gosh that was a long thought on the side. It's as if I've supersized my ramblings.

Well. I was thinking about how The Great Gatsby is like, one of the best books ever, and I guess I never really wrote the poem, I just thought about it.

Here's the one line I had:
So maybe you're my Daisy Buchanan.

The poem was going to be about putting the person you love on a pedestal. In the book, (As you should know but if not turn off the computer RIGHT NOW and go read yourself some of that F. Scott. You will be more of a person for it) Gatsby is in love with this woman Daisy Buchanan. He is infatuated with this idealized vision of her, but it turns out she is just a nasty little (pardon my ebonics) biyatch.

My poem hinted at how everyone does this with some people they love. So maybe I've idealized you like Gatsby idealized his love when in fact you are both nothing special. Oh what a condemnation of the object of my affections. Of course I really can't help thinking that you're oh so gosh darn snazzy, I'm just going to mourn the sad fact that you might not be who I built you up as buttercup. In tenth grade my poem would end with So maybe I don't care. I love you and that's all that matters.

Hm.

I just keep thinking about how I really didn't know what was going on in tenth grade.

2 comments:

Voix said...

Just you wait.

And I believe the appropriate spelling is "beeyotch." But maybe I'm going phonetically.

emily said...

I've not read Gatsby, but Per just read me a passage about the Midwest. So beautiful. Houses being called by family names...