Every Moment of Silence is Proof of a Sad Reality

Unfortunately, it seems that I am, and was, right.

From Girl in Landscape, by Jonathan Lethem:

“‘Here, wait, it says something good about that.’ Caitlin flipped pages back. ‘Here. “Archbuilders describe English as a language of enchanting limitations. The English vocabulary is tens of thousands of words smaller than any language native to their planet. English words seem, to an Archbuilder, garishly overloaded with meaning. One Archbuilder describes speaking English as ‘stringing poems into sentences,’ another compares it to ‘speaking hieroglyphics.’ ” ‘ ”

School has for so long seemed like an endless cycle of beginnings and endings, constant newness and constant progression, a feeling of change, and now the end is clearly visible. I don’t really believe it yet. I just assume that something will happen that will make the cycle start over again, because I’ve become acclimated to the idea of school in my mind like I’ve become acclimated to the sun rising and falling every day. It is always happening, or about to happen, or having just happened. So at least, it will feel like a hiatus to me that will never truly be real.

Of course, the metaphor is the cyclical idea of relationships. My relationship with school is like one with a person. I have certain ideas and expectations about their behavior, their consistency, their actions. What happens if some day those actions completely cease, seeming irretrievable? Not irreconcilable, but even so, never to be the same. How is that different from a relationship that feels inexorable, unending, eternal? The setting of one sun, the rising of another. Or are they the same sun manifesting itself in a new day? A day that feels like it will never end but just as quickly disappears into a broad black night.

I’m not ready for another night.


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