Sunday, April 5, 2015

Two: My Poetry Analysis Blog Started As A Respone to Occupy Wall Street

Back in 2011, jobless and questioning how I could pay off my student loan debts, I enrolled myself back to community college to defer my payments -- $300 for 6 months versus $300 a month -- simple mathematics.  One morning, I turned on the news and saw that Occupy Wall street was going on.

A public forum to speak grievances -- that looks interesting.  I followed the movement everyday in order to figure out what was going on and where this movement would go.  I started my blog as "A Retail Life After the MFA" to discuss what I'm going to do in order to survive -- go back to retail in order to pay my debts since I have more experience selling things than anything else.

But my first article that I wrote -- the first one "How Higher Education Affects Lifetime Salary" - A Response was angry.  Angry about my situation when I thought I did everything correct, but, well, I couldn't sustain this anger.  Much like how movements die out, I let it go -- not so much the debt.  Not through my own will, but by a snide comment.

I was posting a whole bunch of political articles and news on Facebook and someone I used to work with, David Lam, commented something like this.

"Yeah, there's bullshit in the world and shitty things, but the world has funny shit  as well " Something like that.

And as I thought about it, I noticed that the majority of the poems I read from Occupy Wall Street had some mention of the movement, but had more to do with personal strife -- yes, life is bad -- yes, there's some sense of therapy by writing it down, but is that it?

I grew bored of being so angry.  I grew tired of circlejerk conversations on "how I did everything right, but its' not fair."  Like my former boss would yell to me and maybe perhaps David, "you're a fuck up."

And being a fuck up makes me laugh.

So what I decided to do was analyze poetry since I had nothing to lose.  I'm a fuck up nobody that, even if I wrote the most tainted salacious review, no one would care.  But at least I'd be entertained.

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