ugh. super sick but I still have to go to school tommorow. (i'll mask but still. augh. wish the kids having like doubling over coughing fits would do the same.)
thinking about some conversations ive had recently, about this like, poem that mark strand wrote, called "eating poetry", thats like,
we had a ton of arguments in literature about how to interpret it.and I was talking about it in class from the angle of "identity". the narrator is filled with unspeakable destructive euphoria at the idea of consuming and devouring a fictional work, of becoming something unprecedented and new, of scaring those around them as they delight in their newfound physical change.
There is no happiness like mine. The librarian does not understand. I am a new man.
as someone thats surrounded by a lot of furries and a lot more transgender people , but like, outside of that, just very prone to identifying with media strongly, i read it as a poem about identity and consumption. of "becoming the beast" in the poem that the author "consumed", ate, read, whatever. I didn't really connect it with transgender identity itself, but a lot of the works I like are struggles about identity. so i was talking to a friend about that (and just the perils of identifying too much with media in general) and like, "becoming the beast".. i dont know if its because im stupid sick out of my mind right now and forcing myself to write and read and do piles and piles of homework before i collapse, but "becoming the beast" is such a nice yummy sickeningly sweet phrase in my mouth. "becoming the beast". I was too scared to tell anyone how I felt. "becoming the beast". I am the beast. "becoming the beast". my urges and desires and wants scare civilized society.
i like scifi about aliens and robots and shit and people becoming aliens and robots and how they cope with having new uncomfortable bodies and identities and a lack of stability.
my head hurts. i want to sleep. i want to not go to school.