~€dd@~

Yes, somehow the title of the famed Queen song truly applies these days. For the past week I have been studying the renounced romantics to the core; Blake, Burns, Wordsworth, Coleridge, Byron, Shelley and Keats. I like them all - exept Blake. He is, to say the least, driving me completely stark raving mad. And how could he not? The man was a lunatic. You don't believe me? Listen to this:

"Expect poison from the standing water" -Yeah...

"The eyes of fire, the nostrils of air, the mouth of water, the beard of earth" -Who's coming along in a what now?

"The best wine is the oldest, the best water the newest"-Well that's true..

"Where man is not, nature is barren"- This coming from the man who was an environmentalist if I ever saw one...

All these quotes come from The marriage of heaven and hell. These qoutes have nothing do do with heaven and hell. Loony. But a genious all the same. I really like his Songs of Innocence and of Experience, though. But this marriage stuff just isn't doing it for me.

Today I've been studying Keats. Poor bloke. It's beyond me how the man could write such beautiful poems in such mental agony. The same goes for all of them, really. But I guess that's what romanticism is all about, use the pain to create (exept for Wordsworth, who worked by the motto "emotion recollected in tranquility"). But enough about school. Since I'm already going slightly mad.

I nipped out for a couple of hours last night, sick and tired of studying. I was going to go to "Octoberfest" in school (that crazy German department, ey) but the queue was so insanely long I just nipped to my fav café instead (Café Victor, the one I took you to Emma, the last time you were here) and me and my friend Helga just sat there, drinking our coke and singing along with the band - bloody good fun actually. Went home at 1, which is pretty damn early for me on a friday night, to be completely honest, had a good nights sleep and got up at 10 this morning for my beloved Keats. And I'm seriously about to stuff it right about now, working so much this secluded can't be very good psychiatrically...

Phew! Lunchtime! At last a bit of time off... (as Bridget Jones so famously said)...

out

edda