Imagination is a curse

I'm going to finish Farscape before the school year is over. I'm recovering from an acute allergy attack on Monday night, so I'm sitting on the porch with a face mask protecting me from the pollinated breeze. The sun is setting, and the sky is green between orange and powder blue. It's unsettling, but I've been inside all day, dead enough to watch tv for hours and hours, and now this moment of clear-head and open-eyes is unspeakably refreshing. I can say that with authority, because I have been unspeakable all day, so I am familiar with my terms.

My re-introduction to speaking came from Eugene Guillevic today. In the haze of an afternoon Benedryl I found myself in fine form to read French poetry. I found on that tantalizes me... It's Du dehors:

Le roc non plus 

Ne sait rien de l'image 

Qu'ont de lui les amants 

Dans son ombre adossés 

Aux vestiges du temps.

Ce qu'il sait, c'est la force 

En lui du tremblement 

Qui ne l'a pas quitté,

Son rêve d'être ensemble 

A pénétrer le lieu 

Fait de l'autre et de soi

Confondus dans l'approche 

Et dans la découverte.

Mysterious, no? What dehors? L'autre et soi? Lovers? Metaphors? Referent? QUESTIONS!

Of course my oral defense may be more important than the 5 to 7 page French paper, but it's important to starting thinking early on. They are both supposed to happen on Friday, but I think I'll try to delay the French paper. Then it can be my last assignment of undergrad.

And my last paper will be about Hum, for next year's freshmen. I look forward to it. It'll be a perfect reflection for me. Maybe I'll tease them with that: I wrote this for me as much as for you. No, too patronizing? I can never figure out what that word means.

So, my laptop battery is going to die soon, my skin will start growing goosebumps in the cold, and I will need to blow my nose. The future infringes on our moment together, Blog, showing its hand as it often does, taunting. 

I have had my fun.