Tag: Writing

So Long, Shakespeare!!

The 80-year school term is finally over! I haven’t looked at final grades because it makes me too anxious, but I think I got a B in Shakespeare 😒😒. My first non-A since Applied Statistics. I guess that’s not bad since I received two (unearned) Fs on two assignments. I’m disputing these grades through the university dispute/resolution department.

For my intermediate poetry workshop final poetry collection, I was told I am too poemy, tortured, and dramatic. Yeah, my life has sucked at times and poetry is how I prod myself to deal and heal. Sorry I am not Mother Goose 🤷‍♀️, although she could get pretty dark, too. Not to mention, what kind of person calls another complete stranger “tortured”? ‘Scuse me??

I guess I use “you” too much in my poetry as well, but what else do you (see??) call an audience? I can’t litter my poems with thee, thy, or one (as in, “how would one feel…” instead of “how would you feel…”); that would look pretentious, impersonal, and weird. I swear, my poetry instructor would rather shoot herself in the foot than give a compliment. I hope I don’t act like her after I’m published; I’d rather shoot myself in the foot!

Anyway, those classes are finished (aside from the dispute), and I’ve been complaining way too much on here, so I’m putting all that behind me 😊😊. Adam was a complete prince on my birthday and didn’t wish me a happy birthday at all! Since April is Death Month, he knows that I do not like to have my birthday acknowledged. He came and told me he knew what the day was but he wasn’t going to mention it, i.e., wish me happy birthday, because that is my wish, and I thought it was very sweet. I have been 29 for a few years and often forget my real age when doctors ask.

Speaking of, I’m going to see a surgeon about my hernia next week. I know it’s an absolute mess in there and I feel bad for the guy or gal who will be rooting around in my tummy. The pain has improved since Neville hasn’t been using me as a trampoline but I still want to see the surgeon. I had my hernia repair over ten years ago and people with mesh repairs usually have to have revisions.

I did the trash up and took it out because Adam was sleeping and I didn’t know he had set an alarm to get up and take it out (I’ve not taken the trash out for 15 years). I had Neville go with me to the bins because it was dark outside and I don’t like going down near the road at night. I gave him a trash bag to pull so he could help me and it didn’t go well 😂. It started out okay with him pulling it and following me but when we got close to the bin, he ran back up in the yard and started shaking the bag because he thought we were playing.

So, I have started training him in the living room to hold (without shaking) a bag and carry it while following me. He is really so smart. I started with a grocery bag with some things in it and I put some clothes in a garbage bag for me to carry across the room with him following me. He gets a little excited and shakes the bag when we get to our destination, but if I tell him to sit, he does so and stops shaking the bag. Recently, he has learned how to throw things with his mouth, which is hilarious but not a desired trick and nothing we taught.

After a couple of trips across the room, I switched bags so I have the grocery bag and he had the heavier, bigger trash bag. We’re doing this blind because I could not find a video for training a dog to carry a bag around, although I did find ones to teach them how to put their toys in a box and to put trash in a trash can. I had Ollie in the living room as well to practice distraction training for Neville, so Ollie received some participation treats 😂. It is a work in progress, but Nev is very eager to please and food-driven and he picks up on things very quickly. With Ollie, he has learned how to sit and come to me, but he is less eager to please than his brother.

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~*~Bertrand~*~

Acrostics are a really cool form of poetry and can be fun and challenging to write. Bertrand Russell is a well-known philosopher and I have always loved a certain quote by him.

~*~Bertrand~*~

War. 

Does it 

Not help you 

Determine who lives and 

Who dies?  Tell me who 

Is arrogant enough to believe he’s 

Right about who deserves to live, and 

Only the chosen ones will remain on Earth.  

Who was born into such hatred, and who 

Is able to sleep at night knowing the ones 

Left will surely spend the rest of their lives broken?

~*~Behind Windshields~*~

At the end of the driveway, we waited.  

I was still chasing after my father —

a man who never wanted to carry that label, 

who wore his defiance like a well-tailored suit.

He was my town, adorned with a 

shimmering crown made from 

razorblades and lies.  

Their brake lights shone like nebulae 

frozen in a night sky — long forgotten, 

yet so desperate to remain seen.

She told me not to come,   

banned me from his home.  

I shrunk from her emerald gaze,

turning a mirror in place of 

the other cheek for ten years.  

Never a word from them — 

No calls —

          No cards —

                    No contact — 

as it had been my entire life.  

I could not approach my dying father, 

but he would wave to me.  

Wave to his only daughter, 

the only one who defended him — 

               Out of love —

	Out of fear — 

Out of shame —

to hide that she was undeserving of love.  

With tears dripping off my cheeks, I waved — 

each of us behind windshields.  

A final wave through distorted panes.

A silent goodbye to years of pain.

A silent hello to years more.

Grammarly vs. ProWritingAid vs. Hemingway App

Imported from Medium, 2020

We could all use a little less editing in our lives, amirite? It is super frustrating to spend hours working on an article or post and feel proud of it, only to get an email with “Revision Request” or “Rejected” in the subject line. Or maybe your work is full of comments in the margins that tell you what you did incorrectly. Well, there’s an app for that.

Which one to use, though? The three I have used, Grammarly, ProWritingAid, and Hemingway App, are powerful editing tools that will improve your writing and cut down on editing.

All three tools have very generous free versions. They are pretty cool apps, but I’m sure the paid versions are much more useful and worth the money. I’m typing this in the Hemingway App editor since I haven’t used it much. Let’s get started!

Grammar and Editing Applications

Grammarly, ProWritingAid, and Hemingway Editor are apps designed to help you write well. They check your spelling, grammar, sentence structure, and more. I’ll go through them app by app.

Grammarly

I have used Grammarly the longest. I found it while attending college because English Comp I and II tried to kill me. The free version includes a chromium-based browser extension, desktop app, Microsoft Word add-in, Outlook add-in, phone app, and new iPad app. I’m an Apple person, so I don’t know about other tablets. The iPad is a new feature.

Grammarly catches misspelled words and normal “common” mistakes like your/you’re, judgment/judgement, its/it’s, there/their/they’re, is/are, etc., all on the fly (as you are typing). A newer feature will let you see what tone your writing is in, be it business, academic, casual, humorous, and the like.

Performance Scores

The Grammarly editor scans your uploaded documents and scores your writing out of 100 based on correctness, clarity, engagement, delivery (with suggestions in each category), and premium features, which can’t be viewed in depth, but the number of errors will decrease if you guess your error(s) and correct it.

You can adjust goals for audience, formality, domain (style), tone, and intent for each document you open in the editor for custom editing.

The free version has really expanded since I last used it, and Grammarly is a great tool to have.

Grammarly desktop editor

Go Pro (Not The Camera)

The Pro version delves into comma usage and includes a plagiarism checker, vocab enhancement, and other features such as passive-voice usage and outdated language. You can also receive help and feedback from a human editor. It’s $30 a month or $11.66 a month billed annually.

ProWritingAid

I have been using ProWritingAid since I saw it mentioned in an article somewhere online a couple weeks ago. PWA informed me I’m a very passive writer. Reading up on copywriting and content writing informed me editors frown upon passive writing. What can I say? I’m a very passive person, so of course, it would show in my writing.

The Editor

The free PWA Editor opens in a browser and you can upload your documents or start typing away in the editor. There is also a chromium-based browser extension. There are so many freakin’ features!

In the editor, there are all these things at the top to check so many aspects of your writing. I’ll include a picture because it’s really extensive and impressive. When you’re done doing your thing (or before that, in case your computer crashes or the electric goes out), you can save the document or export it to your computer.

The PWA browser extension works like Grammarly (they do not work together) and has a contextual thesaurus. You can disable PWA on the site you’re at and also choose your writing style, which includes general, academic, business, and script. Pretty nifty.

ProWritingAid in-browser editor. Look at those features!

Go Pro (Again, Not The Camera)

The Pro version of PWA includes much more. You can download the desktop app to use offline. In the browser editor, you can save your document to a host of places such as Google Docs, MS Office (which includes Word and Outlook), Firefox, Chrome, PWA’s desktop app, and some other ones I’m unfamiliar with by looking at a logo. You can also request a human editor for feedback.

Hemingway App

Named after the famous author, the free Hemingway App is decent, but I’m getting a bit annoyed while writing this. It keeps taking me to the top of the page any time I do something other than type; this includes hitting Enter once or switching browser tabs. I don’t know the logic behind this.

The Editor

Aside from that, it’s an okay editor. My document is very colorful (not a good thing for a professional piece). I really like the toolbar at the top. Tools are Bold, Italic, H1, H2, H3 (headings), “Quote,” Bullets, Numbers, and Link. The bold and italic can be activated by highlighting the word and clicking on Bold or Italic or by using key shortcuts, Ctrl B and Ctrl I.

Grading

While the editor grades readability, it’s not very helpful, in that it doesn’t offer suggestions unless only one or two words are highlighted. Right now, this sentence is yellow (hard to read), and hovering over the sentence with the mouse doesn’t suggest how I can fix it; it just tells me it’s hard to read.

The words “are highlighted” are highlighted in green and hovering over that tells me it’s passive voice and I should use active voice. I’m given the option to click on “omit,” which deletes the words, then takes me back to the beginning of the document (really annoying).

I like the word count and error count included on the side. I have a 5, but I don’t know what that’s out of. The counter gives you a reading time, letters, characters, words, sentences, and paragraphs in the “Show More” drop-down.

I have used adverbs 15 times and should aim for 9 or fewer; passive voice 5 times, meeting the goal of 16 or fewer; no phrases have simpler alternatives; 9 of 82 sentences are hard to read; and 6 of 84 sentences are very hard to read, including this one. (Sorry, guys!)

I think more suggestions would make Hemingway on par with Grammarly and ProWritingAid. If we knew what sounded best and increased readability, we wouldn’t be making the errors in the first place. I don’t see any spell checking taking place by Hemingway.

Hemingway App in-browser editor. The underlines are the PWA extension.

Go Pro (You Get It)

The Hemingway App desktop app is a steal at $19.99. You can work offline or publish directly to Medium or WordPress from the desktop app. Not on Medium or WordPress? That’s okay, too. The desktop app handles headings, formatting, and links so you don’t have to.

Conclusions

For me, it’s an almost-tie between free Grammarly and ProWritingAid. I would choose PWA for certain if I went Pro. If you are colorblind, the coloring will not be beneficial to you, but clicking on the underlined words or phrases in Grammarly and PWA will give you the information you need. With Hemingway, the Readability feature on the right will help you out.

hoMe

Adam, Get Her That Cat!

Well, it’s a good thing I set my book deadline for November. Just putting it together is so much work! I had it organized by theme, but so many of my chosen poems are from when I was a teen, so I wanted to highlight they are my early works and hopefully show some growth over the years.

I didn’t write for years because so much of it was too painful to think about, let alone write about (everybody dying). The other things — the good stuff like falling in love and finding some happiness — I was enjoying the moments and not writing about them. Admittedly, I am prone to writing during the darker times when I find the motivation to sift through it all.

So, instead of themes, I decided to do a Wonder Years part, poems I wrote when I was a teenager and going through some things, and The Reawakening part, when I started writing again in the last few years. There is some light stuff to go with the darker stuff, so I sub-parted (I don’t think that’s a word) the main parts into The Light and The Dark. Good? Bad? I don’t know. I doubt I will even have an audience. I want to realize my dream because it is my dream, but I am also doing it for Mom.

I am terrible at building an audience and socializing offline and online, so the word-of-mouth is going to be awful. I know Adam will appreciate it because he is super-supportive of whatever crazy ideas I pursue.

Speaking of, things are going better here. Adam subscribes to my blog, and he also knows I do not talk about him behind his back. If I can’t say something about him near him, how is that healthy? He feels the same, but his irritation comes out only when I am fussing at him about something 😒. I guess there’s a reason he fell so hard for a volleyball player 🤣🤣.

He’s been getting the dishes done and the laundry, both big chores because Ollie is not too keen on potty training and he is going through my towels like a public pool. I really dread replacing every single floor in this house, mainly because I have no idea what I’m doing and no one to help. I helped replace a bedroom floor once in a single-wide trailer, but I was on nail duty and just had to hammer the nails in. Having double vision and terrible aim, that was hard enough for me!

Open your eyes, Dad!

I do have some very upsetting news that I am not looking forward to. Piper Paws is going to be put down soon. She has not fared well since we brought Merlin in and her health has gone downhill from there. Somehow, she is 22+ pounds although we never see her eat. She really hurt her back leg a while back, which the vet completely ignored and blamed on her weight, but the day it happened, she was lying on the floor crying and would not walk at all. We just laid there crying at each other.

Pretty Girl

She also has a weird patch on her back that is from me treating a sore on her back and I had shaved a small patch so I could treat the sore. That patch has never been the same. The sore healed up, but the fur doesn’t grow in normally and she is sensitive to touch back there. For that, the (worthless) vet said it was fleas, but none of the cats have fleas and haven’t since living with us because they are all flea-treated indoor cats and this was way before Neville happened, let alone Ollie. We don’t always get a stupid vet but we did for her appointment.

Enjoying the outdoors.

Piper Paws is the cat Mom made Adam promise to get me before Mom died. She is also named after Mom as Mom’s initials are PAWS. I don’t know how I am going to handle losing her. It’s unbearable grief now and she is not gone yet. She has started using the bathroom exclusively on the kitchen table and she can’t walk well because of her (untreated thanks to the vet) leg and her weight. We watch their food, but I cannot put her on a diet food when her siblings are all healthy weights.

She turned 10 years old on my brother’s birthday. Even though she was for me, she is Adam’s cat. I think she is a one-cat-household cat, so I don’t think she has been happy for quite a while. I really failed her when I took Merlin in. Girl can hold a grudge, just like her mother. I am really going to miss her but the poor thing has had a rough life, dealing with cats she doesn’t like and then dogs. At least the pups don’t bother her physically. And now I’ve upset myself. Until next time!

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Stick a Fork in Me; I’m Done

I worked on my Shakespeare PowerPoint presentation for hours and a couple of hours after submission, my teacher emailed me to let me know how bad it was and that it didn’t make sense. For context, I love making PowerPoints because I can be very creative with them and every teacher before this one has loved them; most recently, my literary theory professor.

Madness in HamletDownload

I spent most of the day crying and jerking (I don’t know why I jerk) before finally taking my anxiety medication and getting some sleep. My perfectionism did not let me not submit my final paper. I had most of it done, anyway.

On a good note, Taylor’s new album comes out in one day!! It is also Mom’s death anniversary, but I have something to smile about on that day finally. It is a little light in the dark that has been the last couple of weeks.

I don’t remember if I mentioned it here but I changed my pup’s name to Oliver instead of Oswald. He just does not seem badass enough to be an Ozzy 😂. He has taken the change quite well and we call him Ollie. Adam calls him Oliver Twist, so I guess he is Oliver Twist Hemingway. He has been very helpful with reducing my stress since he is pretty cuddly, but, like Neville, he wants to lick my face when we are facing each other.

And, my goodness, these boys are so jealous! When I take them out to pee, Neville gets back on the porch before Ollie and gets on my lap. I found out yesterday that Nev’s head comes to my shoulder when he is standing on his back legs, which he can take several steps like this (it’s kinda creepy, like the Scooby Doo movie). I introduced Ollie to my sensory room and we lay on my soft rug and Mom’s Steeler throw. He did pretty well being still. I really need to get a video of him jumping off the porch; it is hilarious. I want to make a little red cape with an O on it.

Malicious Compliance

I swear, I have not cried this much since taking Applied Statistics 😭😭😭!! Aside from my poetry workshop professor being totally useless and providing no guidance, my Shakespeare teacher is just as bad, if not worse. She gave me an F on my final project rough draft! No, I did not earn an F; it was freely (and probably gleefully) given. Unless people are dying or I’m drowning in untreated depression, I do not get Fs. The only non-A grade I’ve earned is a C+ in statistics. I’m giving a breakdown, so if you don’t want to read a lot of whining, I suggest skipping this post.

Contradiction One

This assignment is a partial rough draft of my final paper. Partial, as in not complete, because we are just starting week 6 and this was week 5’s assignment and there are 8 weeks per term. Okay, so the entire final paper is supposed to be four to eight pages including the References page, which is a page by itself. I submitted three written pages and one References page, so that is four pages for a partial rough draft. I get zero points in the spelling and grammar section because my four pages include the References page. That is my only zero on this assignment. There is no paper-length grading section, so she just stuck the zero in spelling and grammar, which is a travesty in itself because I am a spelling and grammar Nazi.

Contradiction Two

As seen in the announcement above, there is no need to summarize the play and provide an overview of the plot. Okie-dokie. I don’t feel it is necessary, so I leave out the plot and go on to briefly describe the context within Elizabethan culture.

And I get the grading score below 👇👇.

It should be, “You start off well…”

Contradiction Three

As a general rule, I do not like using quotes in my papers because that makes the school’s TurnItIn anti-plagiarism program’s score higher and a lot of teachers won’t even audit the program to see if it is capturing properly cited and quoted texts (quotes) and flagging them as plagiarism. I would rather write it in my own words and include the references on the References page, as one’s supposed to do even with paraphrasing or rephrasing. So, I did the latter, per usual, for my thematic summary and got positive feedback with this comment:

Since I can follow directions and take feedback well, I added direct quotes and in-text citations in my partial rough draft. Same approved scholarly resources, but I pulled some quotes from a couple of them and cited them. I am now told to not use “long quotes” (it was bullet points) and instead “use [my] own voice” and also not end on quotes but my own voice; you know, like I was doing before. Just…whatever.

Since she has pissed me off, and I can be petty, I included a quote from her announcement about not needing to summarize the play (in-text citation and including her in the references) and am doing a play-by-play of The Taming of the Shrew and the movie 10 Things I Hate About You since I am so “vague.” I go through the rubric point by point to make sure I cover everything, and I have taken 300-level classes before and aced them, so I do not believe I am missing something.

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All it Takes is One

Mmm…this term… I haven’t cried this much over school since I took Applied Statistics. I already disliked my intermediate poetry workshop (PW2) teacher because I felt she was rude and dismissive. Now, I dislike her even more. She finally graded my four poetry submissions, and again, she was rude, mouthy, dismissive, and not at all helpful. She gave no helpful feedback and merely complained. I am very fond of my PW1 professor and revised my poems incorporating her feedback. I can take constructive criticism and I find it helpful and useful.

Poems tell a story; of course, there is a narrative.

These comments are not helpful or useful. My poem is “too long,” but as I just told Adam, Whitman’s Song of Myself is over 52 pages. A certain part is confusing to her (which I was rudely reprimanded for saying the same thing about two poems) and therefore not needed, and one poem is nothing more than a journal entry. She didn’t say anything at all about one poem. Oh, and she said I “should be” writing in free verse. Um, why? Last I checked, poets could write in whatever form they wished. Louisa May Alcott rhymed. Dr. Seuss rhymed. Whitman, Dickinson, Frost, Pound, Thomas…all wrote poems that rhymed. Every poem I submitted was free verse, btw.

So, I shall present to you my terrible poems. It’s unfortunate because I was actually proud of these. 

~*~Little One~*~

His eyes were clear, his smile was bright,
 
but he called me Little One. 

He spoke of the days of World War II, 

vivid stories punctuated by his laughter,
 
yet he called me Little One. 

My brother became his son — my father. 

My father’s latest mistake became my mom —

Oh, how that woman must have seethed! 

My grandmother stayed his wife,

or perhaps his combat nurse —

after 40 years together, it’s hard to tell.  

Still, I was Little One. 

On the surface, a sweet endearment —

a generic term to bypass recognition

and leave room for plausible deniability.  

He drove ‘round the yard from

dawn ‘til dusk, clinging to the last

vestiges of independence with each

calculated turn of the wheel. 

The last time ever I saw his face,

he was lying in a hospital bed,

poisoned blood coursing through his veins.

He looked so peaceful.

He looked so small.

And I realized — our roles had reversed.  

He had become the little one.  

He was never dismissing.

He was never forgetting.

I remained close to his heart.  

I was one worth protecting.  

With his life's tales told, his energy depleted,

his canvas was blankened once more —

the lines and years melting away 

with each increasingly shallow breath.  

In that moment, our worlds aligned,

for I was his Little One, and he was mine.


~*~Behind Windshields~*~

It was raining.  It was dark.  

At the end of the driveway, we waited.  

Once more, I was chasing after my father —

a man who never wanted to carry that label, 

who wore his defiance like a well-tailored suit.

He was my town — 

adorned with a shimmering crown 

made from razor blades and lies.  

The brake lights shone like nebulae 

frozen in a night sky — long forgotten, 

yet so desperate to remain seen.

She told me not to come.  

She banned me from his funeral.  

I shrunk from her emerald gaze,

turning a mirror in place of 

the other cheek for ten years.  

Never a word from my father.  

No calls —
No cards —
No contact — 

as it had been my entire life.  

He poisoned my thoughts and mind

like the cancer that invaded his body.  

Still, his pride stayed intact,

denying peace and closure for

his child who was still a child,

emotionally stunted and seeking 

love from one who refused to give it.  

I could not approach my dying father, 

but he would wave to me.  

Wave to his only daughter —

the one who relentlessly made excuses 

and defended him — out of love, 

out of fear that others would realize

she was undeserving of love.  

With tears dripping off my cheeks, I waved — 

each of us behind windshields.  

A final wave through distorted panes.

A silent goodbye to years of pain.

A silent hello to years more.


~*~Diminished~*~

I rush to tell you about my day; tripping over words as you look away.  

There’s so much I want to tell you; things I think of or that

Happened while you live your life in unconsciousness or another dimension, pointedly unaware.  

You crave my presence only to satisfy yourself and not much else.  

Your refusal of help tells me I mean little to you.  

You choose to exist and drag me down as well.  

Living in a way I swore I never would, 

Exhausting myself and receiving no help, only platitudes.  

Your words are written with chalk on

A rainy day, they mean less

Than nothing — placeholders and placaters, 

Until I give up.  

I fade away

Every day

Diminished.


~*~O Jester!  My Jester!~*~

O, Jester!  My Jester!  Your tortured life is done.  

The world has given you laughter; the love you sought is won.  

The curtains are drawn, you have moved on, your mourners left behind.  

Your pain was too great, you foresaw your fate of living with a diseased mind.  

But, O, heart!  Heart!  Heart!

  O, the tears of devastation we shed,

   Where on the stage my jester lies,

    Fallen silent and dead.

O, Jester!  My Jester!  Rise up and hear the cheers, 

Rise up — for you, in high esteem — for you, the audience appears, 

For you, accolades and honors — for you, the one so beguiling, 

For you, they call, the mirthsome masses, their eager faces smiling. 

Here, Jester!  Dear paragon!

  This lap beneath your head!

   It is some dream that on the stage,

    You've fallen silent and dead. 

My jester does not answer; his lips are blue and still.  

My paragon does not feel my hand; he has no pulse nor will.  

The screen has dimmed, the credits roll, the final cut is done.  

From a troubled life ladened with strife, the pain he knew is gone. 

Exult, O, world!  And sing, O, songs!

  But I with mournful stead,

   Stand on the stage where my jester lies,

    Fallen silent and dead.
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~*~AuDHD~*~

I learned a while back that people in other English-speaking countries pronounce Adidas much differently than people in America (the States). Here, it is pronounced Uh-dee-duss, while in other countries it is pronounced Oddy-doss. I found that interesting. Most of the time, when I see or hear Adidas, the only thing I think of is All Day I Dream About Sex 😂. Iykyk. Anywho, I am here with another poem 🙂. 

~*~AuDHD~*~

Divisible by 5
Is how it should be
The volume for my music
And the TV

It doesn’t stop there
I have to confess
The passage of time
Is part of this mess

At 1, it’s all good
And I feel alive
Then, utter chaos
‘Til it’s 1:05

2 units of insulin?
That won’t work for me
I’ll skip it altogether
Or add another 3

But that’s not all
That goes on in my brain
The mental gymnastics
Could drive one insane

My ADHD
Pops up to say “Hi!”
There are too many rules
And it wants to know why

Dinner needs washing
The laundry needs cooking
A treat for the puppy
When no one is looking

Now nothing is finished
And it’s time for bed
But I must get some work done
I’ll sleep when I’m dead

I’m still not happy with either of my instructors 😒. Poetry lady says I have “a lot of lyricists” on my reading list. Well, duh. I told her in the first week that I do not read much poetry. My last instructor was just fine with that. Lyrics are poetic; poetry can certainly be put to music if one so desires. Many, many folk songs were poems before songs were even born. But I held my tongue.

Then…I emailed my Shakespeare instructor to ask about thesis statements (she wasn’t happy with mine) and she replied that I need to address her by name in emails and to mind my tone 😡😡😤. Mind. My. Tone. I am autistic, I literally cannot “mind my tone.” What you see is what you get. I would understand if I was rude or pissy but I write how I speak and that is how it has always been. I honestly do not know how to be otherwise.

Forgiveable, perhaps, if I had not disclosed being AuDHD in my first post as I do with every class. I do not have an intentional tone and since Mom’s gone, I don’t have a filter because I would speak through her, and now I do not have that option, which would not be an option in school, really, unless I asked her to read stuff before I submitted it and she suggested changes. So, I sat there and cried for an hour or so and kept myself from replying, which was a very hard thing to do.

She also gave me a low grade on my discussion post because my answer was “vague.” I need specifics if you do not want me to be “vague” (according to you). My husband knows this, so if I am vague when I ask him something or answer a question, he lets me know or asks me questions so I can elaborate and/or explain myself. At the very least, she could have responded to my post so I had an opportunity to appease her. I am a straight-A student and a junior; I know that all my other instructors were not just handing out A’s willy-nilly and letting me coast. I am literal. I can seem obtuse or sarcastic when I am not being either of those things. I spoke to my advisor about it so at least he is aware. Work with me and I will work with you.

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~*~Pervasive Thoughts~*~

Five poems this week! I had to write five poems for class this week alone 😫😫. I know, I know, it’s a poetry workshop class, but last workshop was two a week and certain forms each week. I don’t know how poets who write poems every day do it, honestly. I don’t know if it is because there is too much going on in my head or what, but I do much better with prompts or photos or contests. I find writing very cathartic, so I usually write about painful things so I can get them out, which is exhausting.

For class, I wrote about my father refusing to see me before he died and about my grandfather having dementia and referring to me as Little One because he couldn’t remember my name. Considering he died from sepsis, I’m assuming his dementia was caused by an untreated UTI. He had not been to the doctor in over 40 years, so it took them a while to figure out why he collapsed (he never woke up). Those two poems were very draining.

On top of the four poems for the milestone, we had to write another one for the discussion post, which is a forum mainly for attendance, participation, and accreditation. We had to choose a poem from our reading list and write a poem in their “voice,” which I found weird because I don’t even know what my voice is. I did it, nonetheless, and came up with the following:

~*~Pervasive Thoughts~*~

But don’t you see?  

Once it’s in your head,

it becomes a part of you —

it wraps around your brainstem

and creeps into your DNA.  

Walking the tightrope becomes

less daunting when it’s over 

a perverse safety net of pills,

razor blades, and ropes.  

The passivity of it all creates

a sense of mundanity that leads

you to believe everyone possesses

these thoughts and feelings — 

until you realize you’re the outlier and

most would exist in the extremist

of conditions and call it surviving.

I don’t know how that will go over in such a censored society (from how it used to be — not that we are as censored as other countries), but the professor was cool with including Wanting to Die by Anne Sexton in my reading list, so I am guessing the subject matter will not be a problem.

I doubt my PW2 professor will get back on my good side since I really liked my PW1 professor and PW2 laughed and said that PW1 was very wrong. I am not cool with people talking 💩 about people I like and/or respect. So, possibly a long eight weeks.

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