ramblings-and-musings

[ramblings-and-musings]

the most selfish thing i ever did was declare a major in classics

first, i wanted to be a veterinarian i loved and still love animals and wanted to save their lives

then, i had dreams when i was younger of becoming a lawyer and fighting for undocumented people's rights i read "In the Country We Love" by Diane Guerrero and was hooked.

after that, in middle school, STEM fields were encouraged and i just assumed i'd go into that

it wasn't until i stepped into my Latin classroom in my first year of high school that i discovered school could be not only fun but passionate when i began saving my Latin homework for last every night, that was when i knew i had found my place.

i lost myself in introductory textbooks, then grammar study, then the words of the Romans themselves i stumbled through Cicero, then Lucretius, i laughed through Catullus, and cried when translating parts of Vergil's Aeneid Ovid's beautiful poetry revealed layers of depth to me, unseen when reading an English translation

after years of shopping for careers for other people (though all great and respected career choices) i found myself yearning for something simply because i enjoyed it -- no, i was infatuated with it every line of Latin or Greek i translated felt like i was finding myself every sentence of every paper was a battle i fought to bring my passion to the world my classes became my interest, then my passion, and finally, my major.

[ramblings-and-musings]

the feminine urge to find beauty in pain

i got a bruise on my arm and the next day it flowered into the prettiest dusty lilac color i wore it like a badge of honor my friend commented on how she loves having bruises because they look cool

two days later it has faded to a dirty yellow the color of old sand on the polluted beach and the illusion of beauty is gone, only the pain remains beauty is not pain, and pain is not beauty yet i romanticize

if my pain isn't beautiful, perceived, admired if i do not put it in a museum, it is just pain just pain is not worth my while you should think i'm beautiful sitting in a pool of my own blood and tears

[ramblings-and-musings]

[ramblings-and-musings]

sometimes the only way i can communicate is through photos from pinterest

[ramblings-and-musings]

life is a theater, and i don't want to break the fourth wall

it seems often like i am acting in a play without my script i guess and improv, desperately convincing the audience that i am normal and know what i'm doing i amass a script of my own, born of observing other people, reading over their shoulders as they effortlessly glide through their lines only at night, in the comforting presence of just my own psyche, can i remove the mask, the act, the jester's costume

precious few recognize my act, invite me backstage, take off my costume and stage makeup with gentle hands fewer still require no act of me at all, softly retiring my desperate improv i struggle to play by the rules

each conversation is carefully choreographed: two beats of eye contact, then look away pay attention to where my hands are, don't make a weird facial expression hope i pass as a normal person i could fill books with the practical skills i've had to learn by observing other people

the theatrical mask is tear-stained, the jester's hat is put on to contain a head full of storms and non-knowledge

[ramblings-and-musings]

i feel like there should be a rageful poem inside me something deep, dark, and hideous that erupts from my mouth and floods the world with jealousy and hatred

instead there is...nothing i feel neutral, the absence of feeling it is as if nothing happened, as if a switch in my brain that was on has been simply turned off

i know not what to make of this i am grateful for the peace and lack of jealous storms inside me

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a few days have passed i now realize that the scribbling above was the pause before the tsunami crashes down on the expecting city i wrote unaware of the wave's shadow reading over my shoulder the waters flow around me now

[ramblings-and-musings]

lessons in kindness

this is the paper towel dispenser in the bathroom by the dining hall:

she is a gentle soul if you press the lever too hard or too aggressively, she doesn't work instead, you must gently coax the paper towel from her no matter how late you're running for class or practice, she demands patience and gentleness

take a lesson from this paper towel dispenser: demand kindness, gentle nature, and patience from a world engineered to speed you along faster than you're ready for

[ramblings-and-musings]

dreams and auroras

a fleeting dream, a wispy shadow as fragile as the aurora borealis that featured in the vision i see it so clearly in my dreams, i feel it, it's real but when i wake up the fantasy implodes i wake up drenched in sweat from clawing at my psyche to bring the dream back

three times i embrace the dream, three times my arms close around nothing three times i am left with nothing but the fading memories of a night's dream, forever out of reach

a single taste of the forbidden fruit and i hunger now that i have felt it, experienced it, now i know i can have it i am ravenous i long to put my plan into action, the fear of its results slowing evaporating with the dream

there are two fruits, one more forbidden than the other. is one merely a sign? a cue, to pursue the other? i fear interpreting my dream wrong what if the cue fruit turns out to be the snake? what, then, of my dream? if i dream in snakes and auroras, is any of this even real?

i crave an aurora with you, my coveted fruit.

[ramblings-and-musings]

thoughts on a rainy day

i spilled tea on my vest today it soaked through the fake wool weave with ease i thrash and claw at the recesses of my mind, searching tirelessly and tiredly for inspiration and some new, cool idea or insight that will shake my world my peppermint tea has grown cold my back hurts, leaned against the soft but hard armchair un-naturally the rain falling outside saturates my brain and it spills out of my eyes when i came to this seat there was a mug on the table with the ghost of a brown stain inside it wasn't mine maybe this is a common resting place for tea or coffee drinkers to stare out the window and wonder people pass by on their way, always on their way oblivious of my stupor and sore back, sore brain i don't want to do my homework i don't have any writing ideas i'm out of tea i might buy another lip gloss

[ramblings-and-musings]

rain still falls on Iphigenia's tomb

Inspired by "Daughters of Sparta" by Claire Heywood. Reposting.

The ancient tears of her mother, a child herself at the girl's conception, are reciprocated in the rainy season of modern Greece. A Mycenaen princess, torn from her prime by her father's bloody ambition. She died for Mycenae, he cried, indeed, for all of Greece! The mother is not content with this legacy when there has been so little life.

The bride's veil becomes her funeral shroud -- maybe such a veil was never meant for a wedding, to be drawn back by glorious swift-footed Achilles. A father's love is strong, but a king's lust for power overcomes all things.

With a heavy heart the queen pays respects at her daughter's tomb. The rain falling on her daughter's tomb reflects her grief and anger forevermore.

[ramblings-and-musings]

a life seen through blue eyes

i have only ever been able to see the world through my blue eyes, my whole experience tinted like i see it from underwater rain clouds follow me around like lost puppies

blue necessitates sadness like storms require rain if i put on my rose-colored glasses the result is a dull lilac a view void and desaturated

i see life through a filter like a pair of goggles filled with water i can't take off lest the essential coloring of my eyes pour out of my soul

can emotions be embedded in psyche? in eye color? are the brown-eyed people forever bathed in honey, a sort of sleepy euphoria? what about the green-eyed people, resting forever peacefully beneath dappled branches?

do my blue eyes condemn me to a blue-tinted life? does blue mean sadness?

or maybe, my life is to be as vast and deep as the sea meeting as many people and stories as the rain does, being privileged enough to befriend the clouds being as fluid and full of change as the river, carving my existence into this earth

life is how you choose to interpret your tinted view

[ramblings-and-musings]

cupiditas, cupido

one is desire denoted by greed the other, by passion

my longing for you is not a gentle passion -- i long for you with a mad desire i wish to hoard you like a gluttonous raider

my desire for you is not cupido not something giggled about by the blushing maidens of the palace

no, i long for you like cupiditas one taste of you on my tongue, one look at you and it's greed, beautiful greed, a hubristic passion to frighten the gods

-- an ancient lover's poem

[ramblings-and-musings]

is love inherently violent? with Ovid & Anne Carson

in Ovid's Amores 1.9, he draws the analogy between lovers and soldiers. in her essay Eros the Bittersweet, Anne Carson reflects on the "oneness" of love and hate in Sappho and Catullus. this begs the question, is violence an intrinsic part of love? must we hate in order to love, love in order to hate?

in his Amores, Ovid argues that all lovers are soldiers and draws several comparisons between the two. the ideal psychological qualities of loyalty, commitment, and passion are desired by both military leaders and puellae -- girls. soldiers march the long path to war, just as lovers will travel indefinitely through flooded rivers and snow for or to their beloved. Ovid argues, who but lovers and soldiers would travel through such conditions? quis nisi vel miles vel amans et frigora noctis et denso mixtas perferet imbre nives? who but lovers and soldiers keep vigil outside and even besiege doors? the similarities here are apparent. in this view, the act of love itself is an act of violence; to love and to seek love is to besiege and conquer. love cannot happen without some semblance of warfare, or so Ovid declares.

Anne Carson's first part of Eros the Bittersweet, aptly named "Bittersweet," examines the use of the term bittersweet describing love in Sappho and the Sapphic poetic tradition. She argues that ἔρος (eros), or erotic love, is inherently dual-minded -- not as a concept, but as a single event or instance. in the moment that love is experienced, it is bittersweet, or rather sweetbitter: γλυκύπικρον. in Sappho's view, eros is bipolar in that it seems to combine the two opposite poles of love and hatred. at its core, love is a paradox in which polar opposites intermingle and become one. hate cannot exist without love, and love cannot exist without hate. the two are inextricably combined, with one requiring the other to be present.

the lover's experience, especially that of a young adult, seems rife with hate, or at least non-feeling. it seems that love and disdain are in constant battle, rising against each other over and over. this battle in and of itself defines love as violent; love cannot win or even just exist without struggle, a struggle unseen. so, there is violence in love. love is not an easy thing, a gift given -- it is a constant push and pull, a fleeting emotion not easily pinned down and preserved like a butterfly in a box. militat omnes amans, all lovers are soldiers, engaged in an eternal battle. love is two-faced, γλυκύπικρον, two opposites wedded together.

[ramblings-and-musings]

by the way, museums are inherently subjective and political because of the choices made, biases present, and motivations within along the way from conception to creation. archives are inherently a power play, when one important person says to another, "let's preserve the good parts of our country's history and the lives of its elite [while ignoring its corruption and the lives of everyday people]!" it is impossible to ever study history in any capacity through a clinical or objective lens because no human is ever free of their biases, background, personal/sociopolitical agendas, etc.

learning about history is not the memorization of facts. it is the entrance into discourse and discussion, and the constant struggle for the soul of humanity.

what, if anything, are humanities good for?

in our current society, it is common that STEM subjects are more encouraged to students than humanities are, often with the simple, unfeeling reason that the associated jobs make more money. thus begging the question, what are humanities good for?

living in a capitalist society, the case for why people should study humanities is not such an easy one to make. while studying humanities can still result in a job which makes just as much as a STEM career, the real value lies not in potential monetary gain, but in the empathy gained. by preserving stories and reclaiming lost voices, we decenter the narrative of the oppressor and develop understanding for civilizations and individuals unlike ourselves. it is important to know and understand the narratives and prominent voices of the past in order to move forward productively and identify lasting influences, positive or negative. furthermore, connecting with past humans' emotions asserts that we are not as different as we might assume. rather than causing existential dread, this can reassure us that the human condition is universal and eternal. things were bad once, and will be again, but also that things have continued and will continue to improve. in a world where empathy is in desperately short supply, understanding is worth more than any salary, and something that AI will never be able to take over. (not to slander STEM fields, but AI will definitely be able to be code, design, calculate, and hypothesize in this generation or the next. however, it will never replace a humanities scholar.)

also, since when does learning have to result in a high-earning career? capitalism has convinced us that each passion, hobby, and interest must be "productive" in some way -- for example, if you are skilled at an art form, how many times has someone told you or have you thought that you should start an etsy shop? learning for the sake of learning and becoming an informed member of humanity is often considered silly and useless and a waste of time, but it is actually just the opposite. by preemptively obeying capitalist ideals and choosing a career separate from our passions, we deprive ourselves of the chance to reclaim empathy. the pursuit of humanity will never be a useless pursuit, for it is never a waste of time to learn.

humanities, while having a clear structure, often are more fluid than STEM fields with fewer rules and strict processes. engaging with these grey areas and uncertainties teaches us to think and discuss with others. a lack of rules and restrictions allows us to posit new ideas and perspectives more freely. being able to discuss respectfully and effectively with others is another skill in steep decline in our present day. overall, humanities teaches you to engage with others in a kind and constructive way -- a skill that can be applied to other fields if necessary.

so, if you are reading this as a humanities enthusiast but feel ridiculed or discouraged by people in your life, society, or even your inner monologue, do not give up the fight. as our world becomes more and more divided, engaging in the humanities is more important than ever. guaranteed money does not mean guaranteed happiness, but following your passions does. in a world where genuine humanity is scarce, choose to preserve it, focus on it, read about it, learn about it, even major or minor in it. humanities will always be relevant and extremely, definitely, important.

[ramblings-and-musings]

the cypress trees stand tall

as the protectors and the observers, but most of all as the remainers.

through the many wars and civil strife that has plagued the Mediterranean coasts,

the cypress trees remain.

they are the lighthouses, the guidebooks, the sole markers of tradition and constance in a land marked by dynamism.

despite all the world has had to offer,

the cypress trees remain.

their many seasons of life have weathered all types of conflict, both human and celestial.

take a lesson in remaining from the cypress -- standing tall amidst changes affected but not fundamentally changed.

[ramblings-and-musings]

love & obsession as coveted commodities

as young adults, it is not uncommon to occasionally (or frequently) be bombarded by obsession with love and romance and being loved. a quick look at some of history's most famous literature confirms that this has almost always been a constant of the human condition. what is it about love and obsession that makes it so hard to look away?

in media ancient and modern alike, obsession is often exalted and commonplace - consider Catullus's obsession with the mysterious Lesbia, The Secret History's characters, The Great Gatsby, the series of obsessive events leading to disaster in Alice Oseman's Solitaire. in many of these cases, obsession grows and grows and eventually takes over the characters' lives with extremely adverse effects. such side effects would be disastrous and, frankly, not fun in real life, yet in media are common and almost coveted. this obsession with obsession tears characters apart in an almost Bacchic frenzy, to the delight of the media-consumers. why is such a self-destructive behavior so celebrated in media - and how to what effect on its consumers?

the ability to let go and embrace one's inner motivations and feelings has been sought after by generations of human beings. the ancient Greeks with their Bacchic rites and secret mysteries believed in the transformative power of essentially losing one's mind and being given over to insanity. wanting to let go of the constraints of daily life, whether it be work, school, capitalism, societal pressures, modern politics ad infinitum, seems very attractive to the modern person. thus enters the pattern of young adults exhibiting obsessive behaviors in media.

obsession with love specifically frequently crops up, whether because of genuine demographic interest in the subject or marketing towards young people. being consumed by romance for another person seems "cool" and inviting, especially to the young, undeveloped, dopamine-seeking brain. the idea of professing love to the absolute is not a new idea; in Ovid's Amores 1.6 he beseeches the doorman to let him inside in a trope constantly rehashed throughout history, namely in media such as Flynn and Rapunzel in Tangled and Romeo and Juliet. the picture of a desperate lover at their beloved's doorstep giving sweeping speeches and confessions of love is attractive and coveted. again, the trope of losing oneself to emotions is pushed on and created by young(ish) people.

further questions arise: what kind of monstrous society have we created if people are more interested in losing their minds than submitting to the everyday cruelties and hardships? is this a safe, worthwhile coping mechanism? for the Greeks, it was, and was part of their religious and spiritual practices. but obviously we are dealing with an entirely different world than the ancient Greeks were, so is it possible that we should bring back these rites? must we go insane to survive modern life?

[ramblings-and-musings]

what, if anything, are humanities good for?

in our current society, it is common that STEM subjects are more encouraged to students than humanities are, often with the simple, unfeeling reason that the associated jobs make more money. thus begging the question, what are humanities good for?

living in a capitalist society, the case for why people should study humanities is not such an easy one to make. while studying humanities can still result in a job which makes just as much as a STEM career, the real value lies not in potential monetary gain, but in the empathy gained. by preserving stories and reclaiming lost voices, we decenter the narrative of the oppressor and develop understanding for civilizations and individuals unlike ourselves. it is important to know and understand the narratives and prominent voices of the past in order to move forward productively and identify lasting influences, positive or negative. furthermore, connecting with past humans' emotions asserts that we are not as different as we might assume. rather than causing existential dread, this can reassure us that the human condition is universal and eternal. things were bad once, and will be again, but also that things have continued and will continue to improve. in a world where empathy is in desperately short supply, understanding is worth more than any salary, and something that AI will never be able to take over. (not to slander STEM fields, but AI will definitely be able to be code, design, calculate, and hypothesize in this generation or the next. however, it will never replace a humanities scholar.)

also, since when does learning have to result in a high-earning career? capitalism has convinced us that each passion, hobby, and interest must be "productive" in some way -- for example, if you are skilled at an art form, how many times has someone told you or have you thought that you should start an etsy shop? learning for the sake of learning and becoming an informed member of humanity is often considered silly and useless and a waste of time, but it is actually just the opposite. by preemptively obeying capitalist ideals and choosing a career separate from our passions, we deprive ourselves of the chance to reclaim empathy. the pursuit of humanity will never be a useless pursuit, for it is never a waste of time to learn.

humanities, while having a clear structure, often are more fluid than STEM fields with fewer rules and strict processes. engaging with these grey areas and uncertainties teaches us to think and discuss with others. a lack of rules and restrictions allows us to posit new ideas and perspectives more freely. being able to discuss respectfully and effectively with others is another skill in steep decline in our present day. overall, humanities teaches you to engage with others in a kind and constructive way -- a skill that can be applied to other fields if necessary.

so, if you are reading this as a humanities enthusiast but feel ridiculed or discouraged by people in your life, society, or even your inner monologue, do not give up the fight. as our world becomes more and more divided, engaging in the humanities is more important than ever. guaranteed money does not mean guaranteed happiness, but following your passions does. in a world where genuine humanity is scarce, choose to preserve it, focus on it, read about it, learn about it, even major or minor in it. humanities will always be relevant and extremely, definitely, important.