How I'd Imagine Shakespeare Had He Want Of A Y-Chromosome

Sonnet IIII

My lips turn up when palsy strikes your face.
Determined, you descend upon them both.
They catch themselves and settle to that place,
Where if met with mates, forsooth they’ll break their oath.
When met again, separate they yearn to be
Between old friends, they know just what to do,
Equally adept your pair to thee,
That though familiar, still inspire as new.
Our Ivory walls, in conflict never are
Though sometimes eager message you convey
Purse my halves and let you get not far,
Brief the tease, excitement more to weigh.
And when the moment comes when eyes do meet,
Lips no longer care of my discreet.

WHY ME!?

So, every now and then, weird things plague my eyes.

the most recent and slightly horrifying is this flashing rainbow coloured zig-zag line that just lingers peripherally in my right eye. I swear it thinks it's a Vegas casino job, flashing and distracting me so that i'm pretty sure i look like i'm trying to win a world record in strange facial expressions with a concentration in blinking a lot.

It doesn't hurt or anything. it's annoying and flamboyant.

it also gets in the way of when i'm reading. ish.

if i'm starring in one spot it flashes away and blocks the vision, but say i'm following a line of words, it slowly backs up so that as i move my eyes the words are unveiled. FUN

it's like a suprise. good one eyes, making my reading experience THAT much more exciting.

Sometimes i like to webMD and see how far a certain ache i may be feeling can be suddenly turned into a life-threatening problem.

For example, about a month ago, i had this terrible pain on the top part of my left foot. It just was there suddenly while i was sitting on a wobbly stool in my Props class. It felt kinda like a cramp and so i got up to stretch it out and realised that it was basically the most intense pain i'd ever felt in my life, there happily making itself known to me in my boots. It was odd because i hadn't done anything to set it off.

so i wobbled around for the rest of the day (which just happened to be a day in which i was making up a couple hours in a class that wasn't my own so the strangers in there just thought i was naturally gimpy) and slowly and probablly really awkwardly to witness, made my way on the long trek home.

Sure, my foot hurt a lot and something was probably wrong, but i think i have this really weird notion of what pain is. Rather, i've always had this problem where i can't actually tell is something hurts enough... to be serious. Or actually hurts. I get really surreal with myself i suppose. Anyway, i have a hard time recognising if something is worth medical attention because i just make myself believe that what is actually bothering me doesn't even really hurt that bad, like, oh, that's just how it feels sometimes, my spleen, enlarged like that.

Anyway, after about 3 days of limited walking ability, i webMDed top/inside top of foot pain and the tragical results i got were endless. Let's see, was i actually suffering from Peripheral Neuropathy? Sciatica? SHINGLES? Multiple Sclerosis? or poorly fitting shoes?

I ended up going to the doctor cos i could harldy get around anymore and Lord knows i couldn't live with myself if i had SHINGLES.

she looked at my foot, stabbed it with her pen, slapped it a little, made me crunch up my toes and asked if any of these hurt. i said yes.

"you have flexor tendenitis and you can't wear high heels"

oh god. OH GOD. WHAT?

this was even WORSE than what webMD had to offer.

I've strayed a little off course. My eye.

i webMDed that shit and all it told me was that i should be expecting a migrain at ANY moment, once the coloured zig-zags had had enough.

i even googled "flickering colored zig-zag line in vision" and found that there were tons of people (12) out there who totally knew what i was going through. they all said it was the migrains too.

well, fuck.

If that's what everyone's saying online, what are they going to tell me when i go get it checked out at a real Dr's?! That i have to stop wearing MASCARA?!!?!

Some Reflection On My Studies

I've always preferred older English literature to the new shit that people now a days think they're clever for writing.
They, would be nowhere without the dead white guys I like to learn about.
I like foundations and the starts of things. The birth of genre, double entendre, the birth of new words, expressions, ideas.
but, it's not always fun.
Sometimes i rethink my choice of taking Elizabethan Literature simultaneously with Chaucer and his Canterbury Tales.
I let impatience get in the way. I let their now forgotten style bore me out of my mind.
but i'm easily convinced that things are important.
And my professors always know what to say to get me really interested in every word of Sir Philip Sidney, or anyone, for that matter, who for a glimpse of time thought what they had to say was legitimate.
I just fall into this state of awe. I lick it all up because I can imagine with what passion each word was jotted down, maybe hurriedly, maybe with uttmost exactness - their author anxious to express the overflow of emotion with witch inspired him to put pen to paper.
They had something to say. They wanted to be heard.
And, no matter how God awfully boring 14th century text seems, Sidney got what he wanted. Chaucer got what he wanted. The poets and bards and dead old white guys who had the balls to try to spread what they believed in, refuted, ridiculed, satired, laughed at, loved, got what they wanted.

700 and some odd years later and I’m in a class dedicated to these bastards.

Words live forever.