Yo. It appears that I'm back. And by back, I mean "hey look a post".
It Happened Again:
And by it happened again, I mean, I woke up from a dream intent upon capturing it. It's been awhile since that last happened. But the last time, it wasn't visual. It wasn't really a dream. It was all flowing text that my mind could only barely keep up with. But last night, last night was a definite image.
I had a dream that there was some crazy lady in my grandparents garage, and she wouldn't leave. Which, you know, is kind of interesting. But more interesting was her face. Or at least, to my sleep muddled brain that was most interesting. She was a hispanic lady, maybe a young looking mid-50s. She didn't have many wrinkles, but there were traces of her age. I don't remember much of her facial features anymore (I fear I waited too long to write this out) but I do remember the grin. She had a creepy, sadistic type grin on her face in one of the frames of my dream. Just one frame. Mere seconds dream time. But it's stuck with me. It immediately struck me as off. And so it should have, because any time a grin of the face of someone in your dreams reminds your unconscious self of the creepy grin you saw in an anime last week, you know something is off. I can't exactly explain it. Though, believe you me, my brain desperately tried. Which, hours later as I finish this post, sparks a question in my mind.
Am I forever doomed to have to define certain things in terms of other things? Am I not capable of defining them in their own right? Or is it just this one smile. The smile that so easily reminds me of the dwarf in the flask? Is that why people appreciate a well thought out analogy? Similes? Metaphors? Because it's easier to grasp and because we lack the ability to define some things in their own right? I don't think it's just me. Or so many cliches wouldn't be similes. But still, I wish I could explain the grin in words and not similes. Or at least in a simile that didn't cater to japanese pop culture.
Quote of the Day:
"The artist doesn't have time to listen to the critics. The ones who want to be writers read the reviews, the ones who want to write don't have time to read the reviews."
- William Faulkner
21.6.10
8.6.10
Tutoring
I'm so neglectful:
But I can't help it. Or, rather, I could, but I simply don't put forth the effort to remember to not be neglectful. Right now, I'm staring at my brother staring at a math packet. He's working on equivalent fractions. Now, of course, the only thing he's doing is complaining that he doesn't know how to do what he's supposed to be doing. But unfortunately for him, we went over essentially the same thing yesterday.
So while he continuously gets frustrated, I'm sitting here writing about him getting frustrated. He's not seeing the link between the two sets of problems. I could be the person that walks him through everything. I could just flat out tell him he needs to find the common denominators and cross multiply and all that bull. But thats not what I"m here for. He needs to work it out for himself. Once he works the problem out for himself, he always understands better in the long run. Which is something his teachers always manage to neglect. And seeing as I can't get fired for being neglectful to a 5th grader, he's getting the crash course he needs now, before he goes into a class with 1 teacher and 20 something other kids.
Which is a funny feeling. I can tell he hates me and is frustrated with himself and the work every time I leave him hanging for an extended amount of time. Of course, if he still doesn't get it after awhile, I help him with a problem, and leave him to the rest. And I am immediately reminded of my own forays into the academic sphere. I don't think I ever had quite so many issues with the learning process when I was his age, hell even when I was older. But I do recognize the teaching method I seem to have acquired. I can almost name all the teachers who (seemingly) left me out to rot before giving me an abrupt nudge in the right direction right as I was about to give up.
Which makes me wonder if I should keep someone around to for all intents and purposes appear disinterested and then yell and throw me off cliffs when I come to them. I'd probably hate and appreciate them as much as my brother hates and appreciates me. But god, I don't know if I want a bastard like me hovering around while I'm pretending to be productive.
Quote of the Day:
"Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work."
- Thomas A. Edison
But I can't help it. Or, rather, I could, but I simply don't put forth the effort to remember to not be neglectful. Right now, I'm staring at my brother staring at a math packet. He's working on equivalent fractions. Now, of course, the only thing he's doing is complaining that he doesn't know how to do what he's supposed to be doing. But unfortunately for him, we went over essentially the same thing yesterday.
So while he continuously gets frustrated, I'm sitting here writing about him getting frustrated. He's not seeing the link between the two sets of problems. I could be the person that walks him through everything. I could just flat out tell him he needs to find the common denominators and cross multiply and all that bull. But thats not what I"m here for. He needs to work it out for himself. Once he works the problem out for himself, he always understands better in the long run. Which is something his teachers always manage to neglect. And seeing as I can't get fired for being neglectful to a 5th grader, he's getting the crash course he needs now, before he goes into a class with 1 teacher and 20 something other kids.
Which is a funny feeling. I can tell he hates me and is frustrated with himself and the work every time I leave him hanging for an extended amount of time. Of course, if he still doesn't get it after awhile, I help him with a problem, and leave him to the rest. And I am immediately reminded of my own forays into the academic sphere. I don't think I ever had quite so many issues with the learning process when I was his age, hell even when I was older. But I do recognize the teaching method I seem to have acquired. I can almost name all the teachers who (seemingly) left me out to rot before giving me an abrupt nudge in the right direction right as I was about to give up.
Which makes me wonder if I should keep someone around to for all intents and purposes appear disinterested and then yell and throw me off cliffs when I come to them. I'd probably hate and appreciate them as much as my brother hates and appreciates me. But god, I don't know if I want a bastard like me hovering around while I'm pretending to be productive.
Quote of the Day:
"Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work."
- Thomas A. Edison
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)