two beloved poets

I'd like to start by letting you (whoever YOU are) know why I started this blog. For now, we'll go with the short version: I'm sick. I have a thyroid disease called Graves' diseass (pretty much the worst possible name for a disease, if you asked me, which, of course, you didn't) which has been causing me a lot of problems, the worst of which is depression. My life has essentially been turned upside down in the past year, and I am currently in the process of medically withdrawing for my clinical psychology graduate program, which is very difficult for me to do--or to admit that I HAVE to do. I'm still coming to terms with the fact that I can't function in my current state, all the while hoping that each tomorrow will be the day I start to feel better. Because of my depression, I haven't been expressing myself very much or very well, and I think writing may be a good place to start. We'll see.

Rather than tell you more about myself pre-Graves' disease (which seems a daunting task right now), I'm going to post the poems that inspired my title and url. The first is by my childhood playmate (and yours), Shel Silverstein, and the other is by my beloved, Emily (whose last name, Dicksinson, I tend to omit, because I'm weird like that, as you will soon discover.)

Colors

My skin is sort of brownish pinkish yellow white
My eyes are grayish bluish green
But I’m told they look orange in the night
My hair is reddish blondish brown
But it’s silver when it’s wet
And all the colors I am inside
Have not been invented yet.

The Soul unto itself
Is an imperial friend –
Or the most agonizing Spy –
An Enemy – could send –
Secure against its own –
No treason it can fear –
Itself – its Sovereign – of itself
The Soul should stand in Awe –