out of the frying pan, into the fire


I graduated two weeks ago. It wasn’t that momentous an occasion. For one, I always feel weird about these “sad” situations. It makes me feel cold when I realize that I am not sad to say goodbye to people. It’s not like I’m happy to say goodbye; I find that I brace myself for these situations weeks in advance, and therefore don’t feel much at all. I don’t really say goodbyes, because I am doubtful I will never see my friends again. Those who I may never see in person I will see online, on Facebook or Instagram, cyber-agoras. It is unlikely that I will completely drop out of contact with those I care about, and so saying goodbye to someone’s physical form does not seem to move me much at all. And saying this may make me seem cold, but I can’t do much to change how you read me, or how you read the way I read myself.

I am in New Haven, staying with a graduate student in the comparative literature department. New Haven is a nice town; I can already tell I am going to like it a lot. I’m taking the Latin class I’ve talked about, and it’s not too bad. While I think it’s annoying I have to learn Latin, I have a knack for languages and in many ways consider myself an amateur linguist. Latin, as a classical language, has a lot of features I’ve only been able to study on Wikipedia pages, and learning it will definitely help me understand how French and Portuguese and other Romance languages function, even if the utility of Latin will not necessarily intersect (at least directly) with my research.

I am set to move into my apartment in about a week. While I have been enjoying my time with my host, I feel like a burden nevertheless and will appreciate having my own space and not being a squatter in hers. Only time will tell.

Continue reading “out of the frying pan, into the fire”


New adventures. New spaces. New directions for the blog.

I’ve been thinking over what it is that I want from this blog. I’ve had weird fantasies about what this blog could do for me, and in a way I felt like I was guiding it to do one specific thing, when in reality I need it be multipurpose. This is, in many ways, a public diary, and that’s fine, but it wasn’t always this way. My earlier posts were often focused on a particular political topic, like representation, otherness, and marginalization, but when I went to Senegal in the Spring of 2016, I began writing more confessional pieces, and that scared a lot of people. I find that it’s a little strange to read information about a person which stems from a part of their life you had never seen or experienced before. The gullies and valleys of our minds, those sun-starved places that we prefer to keep hidden, are often the greatest wells of inspiration. As someone who has been in many ways forced to be introspective, I have to consider these sites, the depressive ridges, the elephant graveyards, to be worthy sites of exploration in the mental cartography of “self-discovery.”

This blog has been a roadmap for that process, insofar that it forces me to 1) process my thoughts and, more difficulty, my emotions 2) distill them into meaningful, human language 3) adulterate that information for general consumption. Even if it has changed form, I don’t necessarily feel bad about those changes. For one, I’ve been having this weird issue of credibility lately. I feel as if I know only a brief overview of what I’m studying, and have only recently become conscious of larger systems at play. Throughout this blog I have been talking about these systems, and with each post I am able to better see the inner workings and the interconnections, but still I feel somewhat weirded out about the idea of sharing my thoughts on these cultural and political issues considering my mere 21 years of experience and the readings I skimmed for a course. Hopefully that fades, but that is one of the reasons I decided to stop writing about these issues.

Continue reading “transitions”