Writing, Teaching, Music & the Loss

It’s that time of the week again–Music Monday and as promised there will be a sneak peek into a scene from Walking in the Shadows, which will be available 9 days. Wow, it’s getting close!

For today’s scene Knightley is going to get himself in hot water again. Why? As a teacher he believes that despite what it might do to him, he needs to do what is best for his students and this includes Vera. Knightley is a good teacher, the reason why? I believe a good teacher needs to abstain from arrogance, a teacher who believes they know everything,especially a literature teacher, is driving themselves into a hole in my experience, and what is much worse? They drive their students into the ground. I was one of those students. A good teacher realizes that they can learn from all of those around them, including their students. Knightley yearns to not only teach but also to be taught. If nothing else, one can learn about human nature. My reason for this thinking is simple, each and every one of us is different; we each bring a different experience to the table. An English teacher, in my mind, is a teacher of literature, a teacher of writing and a teacher of life. We read writing, we learn writing, writing teaches us about life. In it’s function writing is mechanical (put commas here, never start a sentence with and or but), but in it’s being it is far from mechanical; writing is emotional. It’s often emotionally driven, even the boring technical writing is driven by some sort of experience, which is very often driven by emotion. I wrote procedures for the bank I work for, and I put a little bit of me and my writing style in each of them. It was technical, but it was still emotionally driven by my need for perfection and the want to teach and make the processes easier to understand. Now, Knightley often finds himself in hot water because of his want to teach. In his lesson that we will see today, he is trying to teach his students how writing can help them deal with the emotions of every day life. He does have motives in this. He is trying, most of all, to help Vera deal with the things she has not. She admits to him that she used to write, but that she hasn’t since her parents died. That’s when he knows what he must do, even though it could very well eat him up inside–and oh, does it. He asks each of the students to write a poem, and then he shuffles them and each is read randomly and anonymously–poetry being as subjective as it is, everyone who participates receives an A. Knightley participates because he feels that his students should not have to do something he himself would not be willing to do. Under some sort of odd circumstance–AKA me, Knightley gets Vera’s poem at random. He knows it’s hers when he begins reading it and each word is a knife twisting into his soul:

“Now make sure the one you have isn’t yours…Are we all set?” He held up the paper he had in his hand. “Should I start?” His eyes landed on the paper and then found mine. He swallowed before opening his mouth to speak, but thought better of it and sat on his desk. I could see his hands shaking on the piece of paper as everyone waited for him to speak. He pulled on his tie and said, “There’s no title on this, so I’ll just begin to read.

‘All that guides me is fear,

And all that finds me is loss

Death defines which paths I cross

It is within the shadows that I stumble

And I am desperate without a voice

Here I am threatened by the resolve that you are

my soul

But if my lies are the path that I have to wander

because there is no choice

Will you love me still?

In the darkness of the night when I wish to do

nothing more than take flight?

Will you hold me to this plane and ease the

suffering and pain?

When all you know is the truth

And all they see is the lies

Will I be the one you find, or the one you leave

behind?

Alone may be the only home I shall find.’”

When Tad finished his jaw was clenched with his eyes staring at the piece of paper and one hand holding the side of his desk so tight that his knuckles were white.

“Are you okay, Mr. Knightley?” Jaz asked as everyone leaned back in their seats in surprise. “Mr. Knightley?”

“Knightley,” I spoke, and his eyes looked up and found mine while the rest of the classroom stared at me in surprise for using just the surname. “They’re just words.”

“You know that’s not true, Vera!” he hissed.

Now, to the song for today:

SONG: Stay Small

ARTIST: The Receiving End of Sirens

CD:The Earth Sings Mi Fa Mi

GENRE: Experimental rock, Post-hardcore, Ambient

LYRICS:

Son, I’m sorry for this world,
And all the awful things she’ll do to you.
If you only knew what you’d endure before you were born,
I haven’t got a single doubt,
You would have not come out,
And I would have known it was for the better.

You’ll be raped of any evidence,
Of ever owning any innocence.
This culture’s a vulture,
And your prime candidate for prey.
I’ve learned that I will lose all that I’ve ever loved one day,
But I never thought I’d ever have to watch it all go,
Or wish it all away.

I know you”ll grow,
But I wish I knew you’d stay small if I said so.
Please just don’t grow.
Please just don’t grow.
Stay small.
Won’t you stay small?

Daddy’s little girl met the world,
I watched the devil do his work.
If only she knew just how sorry I was for her.
I found not a single prayer,
Could save my daughter from despair,
As long as she stayed in love with this place.

It’s because I truly love her,
That I wish to take back the sperm,
That brought her here in the first place.
Little did I know when the egg met the semen,
That my new baby girl,
Like her dad would dance with demons.

We watch the devil do his work in us.
I watch the devil do his work.

ANALYSIS: Okay, to say the least some of these lyrics are well, blunt. To be honest with you, I thought it said “I wish to take back the world” and the other part I thought it was something about man…Well, now I’ve learned something. At any rate, I think this fits the situation well, in the fact that had Vera’s parents known what would have happened they wouldn’t have wished it to. I do think that the lyrics are too severe and pessimistic. Maybe I lack the understanding because I am not a parent, but I couldn’t agree with removing the life. I’ve had some pretty crappy stuff happen in my life, but as bad as it was, I would not take it back. It makes me who I am today, and I am proud of who I am. I’m sure my parents are reading this, and they know to what I refer. I would honestly be a bit angry if they felt the way this song does. It’s too extreme, of course, no one wishes demons on their children, but it is an unfortunate part of life. Is life still worth living, of producing? Yes, I believe it is.

“You might face your demons, but I’ll closet mine.”

It’s something Vera says, but it’s something I thought. Demons make us human, and demons can make us angels.

Music Monday & Sneek Peek

SONG: Meddler

ARTIST: August Burns Red

GENRE: Metalcore (much heavier metalcore than what I normally post on here)

CD: Constellations

LYRICS:

This moment will too pass us by.
It’s this notion inside all of us to prioritize through our selfish eyes.
To be the bull behind the rampage, the reason for all the riot.
We’ll feed our flame before wasting time on everyone else’s, with more problems and less pride.
We’ll feed our flame before wasting time on everyone else’s, the gallows were not supposed to look like this.
Oh God, we live in misery, lying here in desperation.
We need you here more than anything right now…right now.
If everything’s relative, then why the emptiness in our souls?
If everything’s relative, then why the emptiness in our souls?
Trying to untie the knot we thought we were untying our entire lives, we’re busied up and burnt out..
Everyone together, we will strengthen ourselves.
Everyone together, we will strengthen ourselves.
Everyone together, we will strengthen ourselves.
We will…. Because now we know you won’t ever fly fast enough to make time stand still.
You won’t ever fly fast enough to make time stand still.
Stop, listen, and learn. Stop, listen, and learn.
You won’t ever fly fast enough to make time stand still.
Stop, listen, and learn.
You won’t ever fly fast enough to make time stand still.
Stop, listen, and learn.
You won’t ever fly fast enough to make time stand still.
Stop, listen, and learn.
You won’t ever fly fast enough to make time stand still.
Stop, listen, and learn.

ANALYSIS:

What I love about this song, and pretty much all August Burns Red songs, is the lyrics, and that scream, and have I mentioned the riffs? I really love August Burns Red as the complete package. I rarely like music that is all screaming without singing, but there is something about the melodies of the guitar, and the sick double bass that breaks it up. Now, the best part–the lyrics. August Burns Red is a band that is a group of writers just as much as it is a group of musicians. These guys are talented, and the lyrics they write are inspirational, strong and driven by emotion. The emotion in the lyrics shows when they play. Their music always relaxes me when I’m angry, and makes me think about how things aren’t as bad as they could be. Some people listen to August Burns Red and on the surface it seems angry, emotionless screaming, and then the person may not realize the talent in the playing, let alone the meaning in the lyrics. So, please read these lyrics and then listen to the whole package. Writers, and musicians are the same–many are misunderstood because what is read and played is never meant to be understood and never can be fully understood. The writing and music is a part of who we are and you can never truly understand who a person is.

Let’s make this short and sweet:

Everywhere I looked reminded me of him; of some memory that was so amazing it hurt. It was as if we had an integral understanding of what the other felt even if we didn’t agree, but no amount of understanding could fix my mistake.

I pulled my knees into my chest so that I was curled up in the fetal position. I wanted to yell and scream, but all I could do was sob. How could he look at me like that? How could he still be angry—when all I could feel was a ragged whole in my chest where my heart use to be. It seemed it would be easier to be angry with him than to be miserable with the loneliness that filled everywhere I looked.

Lying in my bed hurt, as it reminded me of him laying his head on my chest as I ran my hands threw his hair and he read me some novel he loved. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, wondering if I squeezed hard enough, would it all go away? The scent his cologne had left on my pillow wafted over me and in an instant I found myself yelling for no reason, ripping the sheets off in anger at my stupidity. I fell into the wall with my sheets shredded half on the bed, half off the bed and ruined. This was my fault. If I had just told him, let him know the truth, things would be different.

I slammed my head back against the wall. I didn’t know the truth anymore because I had wandered around it for so long. I had pushed my past away and let my heart linger with him for too long. It felt as if my heart was stuck somewhere between his classroom and the coffee shop we met in.

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COPYRIGHT 2012, CASSANDRA GIOVANNI

IN NO WAY MAY ANY OF THIS MATERIAL BE COPIED OR USED WITHOUT MY SOLE PERMISSION. IT IS ILLEGAL TO DO SO AND PUNISHABLE BY LAW.