Flowings of Your Everlasting Taffyman

I have been out of touch on this whole blog thing lately... well this one.

I been writing a lot for the Spirit of Truth Blog. 

Tonight I wrote a long piece about being excited to go against the Anti-gay marriage amendment in MN.

But I have been feeling the need to write lately. 

I really want to write a poem for this

I planning on using that video for Men's Class tomorrow, but as far as writing my own stuff... its just not coming out in written form.

I feel like I have been giving a lot of passionate speeches and asking some good questions in my classes.

I am teaching a class on genocide, a class on science fiction and how it relates to social studies, and us history.

 In all three we are talking about serious issues and I am using the topics to question our society, and how my students plan on dealing with it.  Today for instance we talked about how in order to commit genocide one has to see the enemy as A) not being human and B) as a threat (someone who will or is hurting you).

But then it was really easy to take that language apart and talk about all war... talk about how our leaders thrive off of that kind of language... and when my students complained that it was because people were stupid, or ignorant, I got to ask them in what way were they different?  and what they planned on doing about it.

I really wanted to write about my birthday.  Not so much the thing itself, but what does it mean to have finished the year I didn't think I would finish?  The year I jokingly said I would win either way, whether I died or not because I had always believed I would. 

What does it mean that on that night, driving home, I wanted desperately not to die... because suddenly life seemed like it was too good to give up.

I didn't think about the things I had not done, I thought of the things I had done... and how happy I was to have done them.  I didn't want the end of that.

But what have I done? 

When I convinced myself I was dying of cancer last night, I thought about what I would want for a legacy... I wondered if I had 6 months, could I convince the people around me to help me create something lasting?

Would it be worth it to spend my time that way rather than put my energy into work, or action, or just sitting around loving people...?

I thought about martyrdom too... like Thích Quảng Đức or Norman Morrison

is that a better way to go than the painful condition I had fantasized?

Gaunte says in his poem about poets and artists "On the first day of school do not make a list of characteristics of a good poet, make a list of the people who will weep when you die."

Or could I will the cancer away as Deepak says is possible?

I want to write about the beautiful women in my life, and how hard it is to see them suffer, not be able to reach through those barriers and fix things for them.

I want to write about my students, the ridiculousness that is adolescence...

I want to write about travels, and fantasize about vacations I will soon take... maybe

I want to write a fucking newsletter for my school, and a novel, and a manifesto and some songs.

I want to write about how ugly I feel lately when I look in the mirror... at this person i don't quite recognize, yet who looks familiar enough though muted, old, fat and gray.

I want to write confessions, maybe I should use that other blog, but I have been feeling so fearful and shameful again... 

but I haven't done any of that...

mostly just thoughts before bed.

and I am tired and haven't figured out tomorrow yet...

so sorry i cannae contribute nor enhance your mood with beautiful imaginings... but maybe someday I will write something worthy of you and post it here, so check back in I guess.