I am terrible at blogging and I just want to stop even trying and just post random fragments of poetry because I am lazy and terrible and studying poetry.

I am very afraid that I will work hard all the way through a PhD and then I will finally have what I’ve dreamed of and try to become a professor and the positions just won’t exist and I will be failure even though I’ve done all I can. All I can hope is that no matter what happens, God puts me where I’m supposed to be, and I feel like on the road to a PhD in literature is that place right now. So I do my best.

But I’m terrified.

I’m also really irritated that I can’t write well.

I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades
For ever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use!
As tho’ to breathe were life! Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
Ulysses; Alfred, Lord Tennyson

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