stuck in reverse

miss fern has been giving amazing poetry practices lately and this is one of them by Gwendolyn Brooks:

We are things of dry hours and the involuntary plan,
Grayed in, and gray. "Dream" mate, a giddy sound, not strong
Like "rent", "feeding a wife", "satisfying a man".

But could a dream sent up through onion fumes
Its white and violet, fight with fried potatoes
And yesterday's garbage ripening in the hall,
Flutter, or sing an aria down these rooms,

Even if we were willing to let it in,
Had time to warm it, keep it very clean,
Anticipate a message, let it begin?

We wonder. But not well! not for a minute!
Since Number Five is out of the bathroom now,
We think of lukewarm water, hope to get in it.

--

i do not want to be like the couple in the poem; too caught up with their commitments and lacking the time to pursue their dreams to the extent that they seem to be contented with the slightest things that we would deem normalcy. it seems like they're simply going through the motions! and that kinda scares me, thinking if my life would end up like that (okay lah, my life probably won't end up with me wistfully thinking of my hopes and dreams whilst 5 or more children scramble around a cramped apartment - but you get the drift). i especially like (and dread) the third stanza cos' it really highlights the conflicting life they have - chase their dreams or attend to their tangible, breathing commitments who they cannot simply give up on (unless they give them away but that's a different story).

i don't wanna ever get carried away by life. i want to get carried away with life.

and i didn't achieve much today, ugh. i guess i did finish next week's poetry comparison (which was very relatable but i felt that my essay lacks rigour though :/) but that's all. sigh, bye.