How many days have I got left?

Wasting my life away, one day at a time...

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Mid-week interval

Not that I haven't been bothered to write something here, I've just been so inundated with work and actually trying to relax a little when I get home that it just doesn't happen. Readers, are you out there? Have you lost interest all together due to my lack of...well...words on the screen? Writing absolute rubbish? You get the idea. To be honest, I do really miss having the freedom to just sit down, type out a blog entry, and enjoy doing it.

Right now, I'm meant to be doing my English coursework draft. I'm writing a close textual analysis on 'Kubla Khan', a poem by Coleridge (there's a link there in case you felt like symapthising with what terribleness I'm being subjected to). Perhaps that's a little melodramatic-I actually didn't hate the poem the first time I read it, but on the whole, I don't really find Coleridge's poetry that fantastic. The guy was on Opium and high as a kite when he wrote the stuff, and there's loads of repetitiveness about God, and nature, and how God is nature, and chasms, and oh...more God!

There are two more days I've got left at school, and then I'll be free for a week. I know there'll be piles of homework and revision to keep me occupied in the least appealing way I can think of, but the anticipiation of being able to sleep in late is almost too much to bear. Right, now I'll proceed to colour code all of my many ringbinders, sharpen my pencils and reinforce hole punched sheets before I finally get down to some work.

2 Comments:

  • At 12:16 am, Blogger Emlyn said…

    Coleridge is cool. Kublan Khan is him at his coolest, I'd say, though the Ancient Mariner's kinda cool too, especially when sung by Iron Maiden. For another (less trustworthy) approach to Kubla Khan, read 'Dirk Gently' by Douglas Adam. Incidentally, some say the whole story behind the poem--him waking up from an opiate-induced dream but forgetting the second half of the poem because he was disturbed by a knock at the door--is pure rubbish, and that the poem is complete as it. It could be read as a metaphor for the creative process. Or it could be sexual. Freud rocks. So do half-term breaks.

     
  • At 4:23 pm, Blogger Miss Waffle said…

    I can think of many words to describe Coleridge, but cool isn't one of them :P

    I'm also quite afraid of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner and how huge it is...we study stuff in so much detail (compared to GCSE, anyway) that I can't imagine how long it's going to take to actually get to the end of that poem.

     

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