at 407 km/h (a la Bugatti Veyron)

so here i am rushing to finish reading a handout on feminist criticism (catherine belsey is a god for her simple words and relatable examples) while snooping on the past lives of a couple of M.A. classmates (twitter, multiply — a profusion of words and images they’re just mind-boggling) driven by curiosity as driven by their choices of genre — poetry and CNF — and realizing that hey, maybe for my final thesis i can opt to do dance pieces a la merlinda bobis as opposed to my original plan of contributing to the meager (and i mean meager in the sense of quantity) ‘canon’ of lesbian literature in our neck of the woods, and then i realized maybe i can ground my subjectivity in those two — see, hitting two birds with one sure aim of a stone — since dance is a way of liberating your body and your sensibility and releasing and living out your sexuality are also ways of dancing to your songs and rhythms and leaping away from haters and bigots; thus adding another set of tasks to my humongous to-do list that in itself requires a rhythm, an organization, a personality of epic patience, “a shudder in the god. a gale.”

gotta go, have class.

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2 thoughts on “at 407 km/h (a la Bugatti Veyron)

  1. Nick says:

    Hello, I’ve been trying to find out where the Rilke poem that you quoted comes from. Particularly, who is the translator and what is the particular book. Can you please let me know?

    • weight of words says:

      Hi, Nick. Sorry I don’t know the exact book of Rilke that carries that line. I requoted it from a short story by Fiipino writer Cristina Pantoja-Hidalgo’s titled The Art of Understatement.

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