Thursday, April 9, 2015

Nine: The Undead Returns for a Poetry Reading

I think I wrote a long time ago, but I probably should repeat it for context since I still feel the same.  I should have died at the age of 20, everything else afterwards is gravy.  

When I was around 20 or so, I got really sick.  I had to go through many tests and had to go to the doctors many times but no one could explain my dramatic weight loss (150 -118) or my lack of appetite or the pain in the mornings and the nights.

But all this is just a repeat of something that I wrote a couple of years ago.  Context.

So staying home all day wasn't the ideal time frame since I didn't know what time it was in the first place.  I found out it was Spring and that there was the annual poetry festival going on at Evergreen and I decided to go.  I took the bus there.

Looking back, I didn't know why I wanted to go, but I just did.  I had no expectation of meeting anyone I knew or being social.  I think I just wanted to hear some poetry.

I remember one poem from that read -- or actually a line.  The poet on stage had a line that included a "Thank You" and the audience started to clap and the poet laughed and said, "I'm not done yet" and continued -- I forgot the rest of the poem.

At the end of the reading, I was about to leave when my Poetry Instructor, Rose Anna Higashi, saw me.  I found it kind weird that she came straight towards me and looked happy.  I just remember her trudging down the row of seats just to talk to me.  

I pretty sure she thought I was dead or worse.  I just remember her asking how I was doing.  I answered I don't know.  That's the only question I remember answering.  I remember being the last to leave though.

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