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Calliope

Saturate/Paper Planes

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i) It is so strange to witness, and be part of, this rushing in of the old guard, say hello to the old boys club, fiddleedeedee; all these things that have changed, those who post and those who lurk; those whose names I can still conjure out of thin air (from there, LinkedIn is but a click away, congratulations on your involvement with the food service industry).

i) I often wonder if the staff of eoff put such moderation and conflict resolution positions on their resumes. Eest debated using it in his law school application, at least.

i) I have come to believe I have a semi-photographic memory, purely based on the number of times people will tell me a story (both on and offline), and then at a later date attempt to retell it, as if it were the first time. The alternative school of thought on this theory is that I am simply the sort of person with whom interacting is not memorable in any way.

i) I lack the ability to fully articulate the totally secure and stable nature of my complete loneliness and perceived isolation on this planet. The last half hour has been spent in pondering whether to make pancakes, or fry the tempeh I have had marinating in the fridge. Should I even bother with either? Eating alone is surely the loneliest of all possible human pursuits.

i) This afternoon I was the recipient of much generousity; my classmates banding together to cover my tuition for the last part of our memoir class. It is times like this I wish I were warmer, friendlier; more like an Oprah audience member before realizing that actually, that car comes with taxes you cannot afford to pay. More valuable than their money is their time; spent encouraging me to find a publisher, offering critiques and praise both. As I recently said in a thread, my instructor said my latest piece was one of the saddest pieces of memoir she had ever read, anywhere; and she and a student (the one behind the passing of the hat) both said it made them cry. Perhaps I will continue in this endeavour toward art; are there any curious readers among you?

i) One thing this class has done is reinforce that my life has been so small; and grows ever smaller, like a noose pulling taut. I have not travelled anywhere, I do not have academic or career success, I have not been particularly helpful, I am not in good health, I will probably never own property, I have not even enjoyed being alive. I am not sure what choices to make in order to see any change.

i) There is not much I can say that I have ever been meant to do - I would wager that I am meant to see my favourite band (your reflection in a valley breaks my heart; me, white noise), and that I am probably meant to be an alcoholic, as well as ___________. A friend of mine recently declared she was giving up alcohol for March, and was seeking sober-buddies to share in her misery. An avid proponent of arbitrarily giving up random groups of food/drink, I said to sign me up, and here I am almost three weeks later; stubbornly ignoring the Johnny Walker in my cupboard despite my friend giving in just days later.

i) Dear participant, you've won The Misery Sweepstakes! Please find enclosed a key, the car to which it belongs may not be started, even by those with a steadfast heart.

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