paper bites

I think I may have lucked out. School is going well, though at the start of week 2 here, I'm already slightly behind. I can catch up soon, though, even despite the extra 14 hours of training for my Social Work class that has been crammed into this week.

My Genji (pronounced with a g like "gun") professor is many different types of awesome. I approximate her to be only about 10 years older than I. Her energy is incredible, at the perfect intensity, especially for a two-hour night class. When I checked in at the beginning of class, she asked for my last name. I said, "Frank." She smiled and replied, "Of course, it is." I was the first one to be called on, which I secretly love, and after I read aloud the first paragraph of the 1100-page novel, she made glowing remarks about my reading, asking others to emulate me. Duh. She gave a quiz on the first day of class. I'm pretty sure I aced it.

My Shakespeare professor is also quite perfect, as well. Have I told you that I've attempted to take Shakespeare three times in the past, only to drop out or quit going halfway through so that I fail? Did I also tell you that it's required for my major? I'm thinking this one's going to stick.

I like that I'm being forced to read Genji and Shakespeare while I am pulling together my Creative Writing thesis. I will be editing/revising four pieces and writing three new pieces. With all this epic and important literature swimming around in my head, I wonder what I'm going to come up with, as I've always been heavily influenced by whatever I have been reading recently.

I have this uncomfortable, reoccurring dream. I think Genji provoked its return last night. The setting varies: different locations, times, small little details. One thing remains the same, that I am either on vacation with a group of people or visiting a group of people while I am on vacation, and I sense very strongly that I shouldn't be there. I shouldn't be there because someone else is there, a very specific person who does not welcome me warmly and may know to question me because my history was explained or because of intuition. This is difficult to describe because I am trying to use discretion. The feeling after I wake up is one of sacrifice--one of shame and obstinacy. In the dream, I always stick around, despite being treated like an outsider and getting the sense that the specific person would like for me to leave. However, my actual cue to exit never comes, so I ignore the person and savor the other more savory parts of the dream. The colors are bright and grassy, a pleasant mix of rich neons and pale, natural colors. It is slightly tropical.


***

Now, a little story from the poem "Song of Unending Wrong":

The beautiful ghost of Yang Gui-fei talks about her lover, who is still alive:

"We told each other secretly in the quiet
midnight world
That we wished to fly in heaven, two
birds with the wings of one
And to grow together on the earth, two
branches of one tree."

***

P.S. I have accidentally given myself two deep paper cuts this week. One was in the middle of class last night, and it was messy. This addendum was written to explain the blog post title.

P.P.S. You're welcome.