School Woes

So, here I am again. Writing, late at night, after having taken a few months off. Luckily, I have not been doing nothing. I have been attending to my school work.

This school work entails reading excerpts from Derrida, Lacan, Saussure, Oates, Ozick and so many more from there. I have written at least 1000 words each week - I have been left wanting for a normal book for once. Every time I think I have some free time, I realize there is something I have forgotten, or need to better, or clean, or eat, maybe sleep, work. The end of the term is only two weeks away - I cannot wait to finish Everything is Illuminated. I have had my fill of literary theory.

Why has my love of books betrayed me and subjected me to this torture of an English degree? Damn you theory.

Well, that's not quite that right. I do enjoy theory. Damn you people in my class. Sometimes, you have to listen with your mouth closed....

Because I have been reading George Gordon, Lord Byron lately, I will leave you with a short, but sweet poem, "They say that Hope is happiness"

Felix qui poutuit rerum cognoscere causas. - Virgil
                    1
They say that Hope is happiness--
  But genuine Love must prize the past;
And Mem'ry wakes the thoughts that bless:
  They rose the first -- they set the last.
                     2
And all that mem'ry loves the most
  Was once our only hope to be;
And all that hope adored and lost
  Hath melted into memory.
                     3
Alas! it is delusion all --
  The future cheats us from afar:
Nor can we be what we recall,
  Nor dare we think on what we are.