Thursday, August 21, 2008
"Der Tod"Ich liebe deutschen Literatur und Gedichten, weil die Deutschen alles "schlagen". Lustig.
Ach, es ist so dunkel in des Todes Kammer,Tönt so traurig, wenn er sich bewegt
Und nun aufhebt seinen schweren HammerUnd die Stunde schlägt.
-Matthias Claudius, 1798
Jetzt wohn' ich in Kentucky. Die Üni ist schön und die Leute sind hilfsbereit. Ich soll noch immer Latein sprechen, aber ich kann nicht oft die Wörter, daß ich säge, finden. Schade. Ich antworte jedermann auf Deutsch.
Mein Englisch wird noch immer schlecter. Der Mann, der lateinischen Lehreren/innen führt, hat mir gefragt, ob ich den Gedichten schreibe. Er schaut mich eines Buch der Gedichte von Elizabeth Barrett Browning lesend an. Doch ich habe nichts geschriebt, von Kindheit oder Hochschule an. Ich habe seitdem zu wenig Zeit. So ich sage.
Bald fang ich Kürse an. Ich werde Der Iliad von Homer auf Griechisch lesen. Die nächste Kurs ist lateinische Komposition. Auch matrikulierte ich in einer Kurs über den antiken Handschriften. Viel Spaß.
Nomen mihi "Laurea" est. Insulsa est. Melius "pusulosam" adopinor esse, quoniam facile conpleor puris.
fenestra, fenestrae, f.- window
defenestration- to have someone or something thrown out a window
Labels: death, defenestration, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, German, Greek, Homer, Kentucky, Latin, manuscripts, Matthias Claudius, poetry, time, university, writing
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 5:22 PM]
The Aged Ones
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
A friend lent me an absorbing novel that, engrossed in it though I was, did not entirely deviate my attention from the two old Texas ladies who shuffled into the coffee shop this afternoon; one clutched a giftcard and acted as translator for the other, who I suppose cannot speedily conduct customer service-provider interactions any longer. They haltingly discussed everything on the menu as if making some grievous, ineradicable commitment that could possibly lead to their deaths if not properly played. The non-communicative one settled for a mango smoothie, which I genuinely hope went down well. I kept shifting my feet and pulling my hands in and out of my pockets as I stood there nervously behind them. They were inhaling my youth through their nostrils, and it made me twitchy.
Life is meaningless, I am an empty being, and I will commit seppuku if I ever become old.
Labels: coffee shop, giftcard, menu, old ladies, senility, seppuku, smoothie, translator, twitching, youth
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 5:17 PM]
Shouldn't You Be Working?
Saturday, August 02, 2008
,Dexter tossed two crisp dollars on my table so that I could have a frozen coffee drink as I read. Then our mutual acquaintance friend, Rob, provoked by some inner whim, donated half his club sandwich. Having over-sized breasts and blue eyes does come in handy sometimes. Things get handed me, and I don't even have to sleep with anyone. Life is glorious.
Sometime either late this week or next Monday at latest, I will take a two-day Greyhound ride to Lexington. Long road trips I normally enjoy, conditioned by family vacations being driven from Katy to St. Louis. At least on the bus, my older sister won't be there to slap me for accidentally brushing her with my shoulder (although there is a possibility my neighbor might stab me multiple times and chop off my head). My body will be in Kentucky, but most of my goods will remain in Lubbock until I can afford to ship them, which will not occur for another month.
I am living with an older man (a high school Latin teacher) in the extra bedroom of his house. Campus lies two streets away, and a Kroger lies two streets away in the opposite direction. A short bus ride away lies a coffee shop with free wireless internet access. Alles, daß ich brauche.
Labels: breasts, bus, city, coffee, coffee shop, Dexter, eyes, Greyhound, Katy, Kroger, money, moving, Rob, school, sister, St. Louis, vacation
[Lauree Frances Keith concluded this diatribe at 5:35 PM]