Monday, November 01, 2004

Here's an analysis of TS Eliot's one and only Prufrock. It made me realize that I am Prufrock in more ways than one. Everyday, speaking of Michaelangelo (talking about great men) and expounding my views on life and death, but at the end of it all, I am left measuring my life with coffee spoons, eh?
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1 comment:

Jenny said...

and what is wrong with measuring your life out with things that are real?

this poem made me really sad when I first read it (or rather, when I first understood enough of it), because it was said to be my physics teacher's favourite poem. he even read it out during assembly once on a special presentation to him. then he said he didn't expect anyone to understand what he meant..

it is the women who come and go, speaking of michaelangelo though, *pause* but this is such a technical detail that it was probably rather pointless to type.

about "getting nowhere by thinking, romancing, and contemplating": this doesn't imply the converse does it? after all if one didn't think, romance, and contemplate, one would still be measuring one's life with some sort of spoon etc. and if the absence of thinking etc _did_ somehow cause a person to get somewhere, would that somewhere be all that great if no thought had been put into the process?

sometimes I think that I've heard mermaids singing 'each to each'; and it's my own voice (inside my head) that wakes me :| and no I don't want to talk about it. *floats away*

3:44 PM

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