Okay so here's the thing.
I am currently analyzing my English teacher's blog.
And English teachers love analysis.
(I know because I have the AP Lit test on Wednesday and I'm in full panic mode)
So this is to you Mr. Kyle Nelson.
Once you told us that we're only seventeen, but we write about everything, and nothing.
And I loved that.
Sometimes you write like you're a teenager ("too young for a mid-life crisis")
And sometimes you write like you're getting nostalgic watching your 32 children grow up ("a letter to my daughter" and also ("forget about it")
And sometimes you write things that sit on my mind when my eyes are closed ("lifegaurds")
And sometimes you write things I that read to my mother, and she doesn't get it. ("super bowl poetry")
You write like you think. Chambers told me it's called "stream of consciousness" but I think it's synonymous with "not being a coward". That didn't come out nearly as poetic as I meant it to, but that's alright because you can't write in pen on a screen. For ages now I thought this was ink, but I guess we've all become far too familiar with the backspace key and maybe that's why my last legitimate post was ages ago.
I know you said you've been writing about angst since you were our age, but "all the places we've lived" is charming. Honestly that's the first word that came to mind, it made me think of slow-dancing someday when your bones are too fragile to spin and it made me wonder what it will be like to know what color of eyes to write about and it made me think of "Les Emotifs Anonymes" (don't stress it has subtitles" and the final line about still being as bright as lights in a reception center was wonderful. Wonderful.
And I thought about "Sweetest Thing" by U2. And I know the video is weird but the song reminds me of dancing with my dad in our living room in Texas, and my husband and I will listen to this song on road trips. Like seriously don't watch the video just listen to the words.
ps "Your map is written in braille - I can see it with my eyes closed." - THIS LINE IS SO GOOD. TOO GOOD.
okay moving on.
Your blog is good. And your writing is good. And it's not because you're 35 and it's definitely not because you get paid. And English major was never a part of the plan, and most likely it never will be. But I am not about to abandon my 54 blog posts and all the words. All the terribly intoxicating, complicating, beautiful words. Thanks to you. And Harold Miner.
-Reagan
I am currently analyzing my English teacher's blog.
And English teachers love analysis.
(I know because I have the AP Lit test on Wednesday and I'm in full panic mode)
So this is to you Mr. Kyle Nelson.
Once you told us that we're only seventeen, but we write about everything, and nothing.
And I loved that.
Sometimes you write like you're a teenager ("too young for a mid-life crisis")
And sometimes you write like you're getting nostalgic watching your 32 children grow up ("a letter to my daughter" and also ("forget about it")
And sometimes you write things that sit on my mind when my eyes are closed ("lifegaurds")
And sometimes you write things I that read to my mother, and she doesn't get it. ("super bowl poetry")
You write like you think. Chambers told me it's called "stream of consciousness" but I think it's synonymous with "not being a coward". That didn't come out nearly as poetic as I meant it to, but that's alright because you can't write in pen on a screen. For ages now I thought this was ink, but I guess we've all become far too familiar with the backspace key and maybe that's why my last legitimate post was ages ago.
I know you said you've been writing about angst since you were our age, but "all the places we've lived" is charming. Honestly that's the first word that came to mind, it made me think of slow-dancing someday when your bones are too fragile to spin and it made me wonder what it will be like to know what color of eyes to write about and it made me think of "Les Emotifs Anonymes" (don't stress it has subtitles" and the final line about still being as bright as lights in a reception center was wonderful. Wonderful.
And I thought about "Sweetest Thing" by U2. And I know the video is weird but the song reminds me of dancing with my dad in our living room in Texas, and my husband and I will listen to this song on road trips. Like seriously don't watch the video just listen to the words.
ps "Your map is written in braille - I can see it with my eyes closed." - THIS LINE IS SO GOOD. TOO GOOD.
okay moving on.
Your blog is good. And your writing is good. And it's not because you're 35 and it's definitely not because you get paid. And English major was never a part of the plan, and most likely it never will be. But I am not about to abandon my 54 blog posts and all the words. All the terribly intoxicating, complicating, beautiful words. Thanks to you. And Harold Miner.
-Reagan
- 8:26 PM
- 3 Comments
