Tuesday, June 01, 2004
I think I'm going to have to write the soundtrack to my own life. I suppose its in keeping, mostly, with a general frustration with the inexactness of words that has been delved into this Spanish 185 semester. But really, how much of our emotions are channeled through the lyrics, the prose, the paintings of others- how much does that mean shadings are lost, distinction glossed over, until the story we see ourselves as composing, through the thoughts and phrases of others (for all we know, tweaked to fit a scansion), is no longer our own?
This is, to a certain degree what my thesis is about. To the degree that it is everyone's life. My own has been delineated by Billy Joel, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Heinlein (with the outlines of fantasies sketched by Nancy Drew and the Babysitter's Club). August, is to see what role rock played in Argentina's. But for the first time, maybe, or the first time I'm lucid enough to recognize it, I can't speak through others because I don't identify with their words. Maybe its Billy Joel never went to college, and neither did Heinlein's characters, for the most part. I can't entirely cringe away from my Authorial Voice because, nearly a senior, packing my bags, its all I've got.
But then, I never read Sweet Valley University.
This is, to a certain degree what my thesis is about. To the degree that it is everyone's life. My own has been delineated by Billy Joel, Andrew Lloyd Webber, Heinlein (with the outlines of fantasies sketched by Nancy Drew and the Babysitter's Club). August, is to see what role rock played in Argentina's. But for the first time, maybe, or the first time I'm lucid enough to recognize it, I can't speak through others because I don't identify with their words. Maybe its Billy Joel never went to college, and neither did Heinlein's characters, for the most part. I can't entirely cringe away from my Authorial Voice because, nearly a senior, packing my bags, its all I've got.
But then, I never read Sweet Valley University.
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