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.