Did you know I still have braces on my teeth? Just the top set, now--it was because I had to have some slow-healing surgery junk going on.
The point of that personal fun fact is that it leads to a generalizable fun fact: having braces and biting your nails requires a certain amount of genius.
Several times today I had an overwhelming urge to give an animal shriek and bash my head on the wall. And then there was the time I considered overdosing on caffeine merely so that I could speed-read my way into an early grave. But Death did not stop for me.
So many people love Whitman and Dickinson but for the life of me I can't understand why. The imagery is beautiful--until you look at what it means. The punctuation is novel and unconventional--until you get tired of it having to read so many other poets who thought they, too, were being unconventional. The emotions and urges take you by surprise until you read more than five lines and discover the sick truth of it all.
Certainly, a few isolated lines have, if isolated and blindfolded, a certain beauty. Is that a concession or am I just stupid . . . ? Never mind. Don't answer that.