Anyway, recently I ended up in my town's annual poetry slam by accident. Kind of a long story, but let's just say it involved me writing and half-memorising a poem in one afternoon, and performing it that night.
Well, it's not really poetry. Well, it is? It doesn't rhyme, and I didn't write it in any kind of traditional 'poem' format, but I think it sounded at least sort of like poetry when I said it.
As I don't really have much to say despite not having been around for months and months, I thought that you (if 'you' are anyone at all), might like to read it. Please excuse the dodgy non-poem-y formatting.
Life Lessons
Ever since I was a child I’ve been told that school is a
place for learning things. Important things – life lessons, an old person once
told me, a wise smile crinkling the corners of her eyes. Funny that.
In my 12 years of schooling, I’ve certainly learnt things. I
haven’t been taught to handle taxes, or take control of my income, but praise
the Lord I know how to use the quadratic formula. I never learnt how to write a
resume or find my passion – a passion that, I’m told, will influence all my
life choices, and I’m supposed to have found for myself – but thank heavens
that I spent three consecutive years studying the reproductive cycle of a green
tree frog. I’ve never learnt how to deal with people – grieving people; angry
people; hurt people, and I’ve never had it explained to me how I should go
about making a life for myself. I have however, you’ll be pleased to know, been
taught how to analyse a memoir. Yeah. Life lessons, right there.
I’m sixteen. I’ve spent 12 of those 16 years being taught to
spout formulas and recite elaborate phrases to garner the pleasure of my
English teacher, whose favourite I am because I know the meaning of the word
misogyny. What have I actually learnt,
though?
I’ve learnt that in 16 weeks, 18 if you count holidays, I’m
going to finish school. And once I finish school? Who knows? Go skydiving,
maybe. Learn Malaysian, get my hair cut short. Who cares? But first, I’m going
to visit that old lady, with the wise crinkled eyes, and tell her that I’m
finally going to go learn some life lessons.
For the record, in case that night wasn't random enough, my English and Japanese teachers were at the poetry slam. I think it was OK though, they laughed lots.
I feel like it was pretty successful. Definitely a night worth going to - the host was hilarious and it was generally a very friendly and enjoyable night.
Moral of the story? Everyone should spontaneously enter poetry slams! Well, maybe that's not for everyone. Perhaps the moral of the story should be that everyone should do spontaneous things that they've never done before every once in a while. It makes life a lot more exciting, and who knows? Maybe you'll enjoy yourself.
May your day be filled with sweet surprises and stolen kisses and chocolate-covered strawberries.
^.^
