The Last Blog. . .

I'm not quite sure what to say in this blog. . . I feel as if everything I could say, someone has already said, and I would really hate to be redundant. Also, I would hate to spoil what my paper (that I have yet to write by the way) could and probably should say. Though I will say this:


I love this class' idea of what it wanted to portray and get across. Literature isn't what everyone thinks it is. It's deep, and let's people not only read into the characters on the page, but also into themselves without even knowing it. It broadens the mind into unknown territories of imagination, where we can dream about red skies and tigers lurking in the dark, morning twilight. Where rendezvouses happen between married lovers unbeknownst to their spouses, and entire families are killed by one devious act of betrayal and/or fate. We become "unboring" so to speak, if we actually allow ourselves to delve into that scary realm of surrealism. And yes, we can even become someone completely different simply by being able to detatch ourselves from the world of the here and now. To many, that is a scary thing. Yet to me, it's the one thing I've taught myself that keeps me sane in my own chaotic and oh-so-crazy life.
This is what I have learned from reading, not what the class has taught me. I would go on to say more about the class, but I'd rather not become the antagonist that I know I'm about to become next class period. If that's not a spoiler for my paper, I don't know what is.

But either way, I shall say thank you Professor Sexson. I will not blame you, but I will praise you despite what you say. You did a wonderful job with this class, you broadened alot of young people's minds with your stolen quotes and uncanny knack for remembering names and poems. I hope someday I can teach myself to remember the things you can. So again, I thank you, thank you for everything you have done for us as a class, and thank you for everyting you have done before us, as I'm sure many people feel the same way I do.