The blog of Gow (Tannicus), fiction and ramblings of the Coyote.
Busy, Busy, Busy, I shall be.
Published on February 20, 2006 By Xiozan In Blogging
First post since...the last one...

Been busy pursuing what has been defined by the World as a B.A. in English Literature. It is actually both an enthralling pursuit in some places and a tedious one in others. The tedious part comes from the classes I have to take outside of literature classes.

Poetry and Literature are the order of the day everyday in my college exploits, but I do have to take other "Gen. Ed" and "Required" classes...such as BioAnthropology and other such little classes that fill the requirements that the degree sets down. I keep meaning to write a short story, novel or poetry...but for the most part I keep putting it off. Though I do write down a ton of notes, concepts and ideas that help me develop what I want to or wish to write if even only for myself. I figured if I write down so many notes on a certain 'novel' idea that idea might take fruition and grow into a book or two. After all, you can't just write something without having a background or basis for it other than monetary pursuits...yet hacks do and get praised for it.

Granted I would write to make money as well but that would be the bonus to what I hope to achieve. What I endeavor and I know it is a fool's errand but I want to achieve some renown even if its the kind of renown Ed Woods receives, I wish to be remembered long past my time is up and when this planet is left for stars unknown that my words and thoughts written into literary form is carried forth amongst those people. It is quite a monumental task, I do know that, and my only hope is to work hard towards that end...very hard. It is towards this end that I have compiled notes, data and other stuff to help me write such work to be carried on. To make it into an anthology book...ah... or at the least to be read by generations infinite. Money would only be a bonus, since what I want is acknowledgement. Its why I pursue a degree in English Literature so that I have a means to sustain myself not on my literary work but on a job. After all...I would rather be a 'fed' artist than a 'starving' one.

This is probably too much of a read for most and I frankly don't was something I just cared to type if only to be read by myself to hammer home my goal, my dream and how determined I must be to achieve it.

As for why I have not been and college does a lot. Plus I was never big on I just kind of drifted off.

Now as I near a quarter century in age...I look back and the things that have happened and look forward with wary and excited trepidation towards achieving my dream or at the very least striving towards it until the end.

Life is fleeting, I make no attempts or no thoughts towards physical immortality...or spiritual...for I know those are unattainable and not what I seek in the least bit. What I seek is turn the phrase upon its head and leave in its stead a man who bled for his art and in the end let out a huge fart that choked the snobbish and elitist tarts.

A quote before I part for those who loved the fart part and those who are the tart, keep in mind this quote is mine and is philosophical by nature.

“The fallacies of humanity are perpetuated by the inconsistency of morality” – Myself Sept. 2005

So…to end it…later for now.

- Erik D Stebbins
Feb. 20th 2006

Since if you may have made it this far through reading or skimming...I give onto thee a poem not quite complete or finished but probably complete or finished it will ever be.

“My soul shatters-
Never again to see the day-
Never again to bask in the moonlight-
Never again will my soul shine-
It is shatter, splintered, broken-
Not even hope can piece it together-
Twas it my folly in Love?
Twas it my absence of Love?

The reason evades me-
It eludes my every grasp-
My mind reels
Will I ever know why?
Will I ever see what was the cause?
Will I ever live…beyond this?
Alas, I cry out-
It reverberates through the shattered soul-

Tis my fate to be broken thus-
I question the pieces-
No answer is given nor is any sign given-
Looking into the glass remains-
I see a thousand Mes-
I see a myriad of emotions-
I see finally the cause-
The is cause is Me.” - Myself, Fall 2005

on Feb 20, 2006
I was aiming for cliché as it was meant both as a poem that mocks Emos and as a poem about a person who compromises and wears so many masks that the real self is lost...but hey, everybody is entitled to their own opinion...seeing as it is reader response.

Poetry is not something I have taken seriously and up until last fall did I like it all. No...a serious poem I have not composed yet and after reading Dickinson, Frost, Eliot and ee cummings, I am far from making the attempt to seriously compose a serious poem outside of my mocking comical poetry.

As for inspiration...what further inspiration does one need than one's own dreams...

Granted reading, listening and absorbing massive amounts of information and art does influence one's own work but I would aim for originality than inspiration by another's work.

Thanks for the comment though and the words of encouragement.

- Erik