Shanee's Tumbler

photovotary:

plum blossoms
Apr 3

photovotary:

plum blossoms

(via aquietjoy)

I’m the type you hear from when something bad happens. Lawyers are familiar with my kind- only calling when they are in trouble. I usually don’t write about the best days at work, but rather, the worst ones… so here goes and the blues will trail behind me.
I was giving a lesson today, and it became the most depressing lesson ever. Here’s how it went, “I wake up every morning”, “I get out of bed every morning”, “I get dressed every morning”, “I make breakfast every morning”, this is what I taught today. Repeat, “I wake up every morning”, “I get out of bed every morning”, “I get dressed every morning”, “I make breakfast every morning” Repeat, repeat, repeat.
Why did this trigger thoughts of a depression I suffered through? Why did the soundtrack of that depression break my heart and spirit in the middle of that lesson? Why was it so depressing to teach of things that I once could not do because I was too depressed to do them? Tell me, please, do tell…
They are empathetic here, and they felt it too. The energy in the class went down and it was a bit of a struggle to get through that one. I thought of making some jokes about “every afternoon” or “every evening” but they would have never gotten the joke. That is my least favorite lesson, it is just kind of thrown in there, and it’s doesn’t fit in with the rest of the chapter. It’s the second time I have had to teach it, but this time it was like “ew, depressed”. Depressed is so “ew”. Why did it have to drag me down?
I had to say “happy” a bunch of times in the happiest voice ever to try to counteract the chord of that down tempo lesson in which I could hardly fake my way through. Authenticity can not be forged, though I sincerely tried to deliver a good lesson, I myself had a hard time getting through my own depressing lesson about “I wake up every morning”. I can’t say it would have been so bad if I didn’t really have a soundtrack to that time. But, I do have a soundtrack of songs I listened to everyday as I cried and prayed to die.
I was depressed because I had no one. I don’t have a history of depression. In fact, I had never felt that way before in my life. Because I had no one, I now have a “history”, a “soundtrack”, and experienced some very dark times. So dark, that to teach “I get out of bed every morning” brought back the dreadful memories of that dreadful time. The lesson was dreadful.
The girl in the class I had after that one for a private lesson quit after my class today. Yesterday I got a letter from Headquarters about being late for my first day of “observation” and how they are taking half my pay for that day. I honestly wanted to quit when I was asked to stay for an additional hour to “observe” a class right before my last class of the evening. I was starving and looking forward to going home “early”, just to have to stay another hour wasting my time.
Furthermore, I thought I was observing to make up for being 10 minutes late for my first day of “observation”, I found out after it was because of that person who was unhappy with my class. So, things are not looking very good for me right now. I don’t think this is the job for me. I can’t really force it to be something that it is not, and I can’t be someone I am not. I am bound to disappoint people, but nevertheless I am disappointed too. I am sorry that I can not pretend to like the job, I am really trying to force myself to do so. I am trying to force myself to act like I am happy about this job to make other people happy, but I have to be honest, I am not thrilled. I guess this is normal and everyone hates their job and this is what I’m “supposed” to do? It must be great because I can’t stand it?
I loved anything that pertained to my major which is English prior to this position. I love reading, I love writing, I love teaching. But I can not stand the material, the method, or anything about this teaching position. It is not teaching, not quality teaching, anyway. I can’t stand it because I just can’t. I taught four keywords, and the grammar for those words. If I ask a student a question outside of the rigid box, which I have been advised not to do, they will look down at their book to look for the answer to “how are you?” I’m not good at this job. I like art, music, books, film, fashion and entertainment there is nothing fashionable about my job. It’s not creative or artsy enough for me. I can’t do this box thing, I have never been one to think inside the box, I have always thought outside of it within the margin of reason.

Maybe these feelings too shall pass… One of those days.

Apr 3

Bedrich Grunzweig- April Shower, 1951, NYC (via)
Apr 3

Bedrich Grunzweig- April Shower, 1951, NYC (via)

(Source: vintagegal, via vintagegal)

blackfashion:

Raelia Lewis  Age:23 Philadelphia P,AWww.cwtv.com/thecw/antmvotin Hellophilly.tumblr.com Hellofilly.blogspot.com
Apr 3

blackfashion:

Raelia Lewis
Age:23
Philadelphia P,A
Www.cwtv.com/thecw/antmvotin
Hellophilly.tumblr.com
Hellofilly.blogspot.com

bestqualitybeksinski:

Zdzisław Beksiński
Mar 29

bestqualitybeksinski:

Zdzisław Beksiński

(via zombiegraycat)

Mar 29

(Source: expects, via c-isnenegro)

chimera-silente:

ofelia by wyrazobcy
Mar 29

chimera-silente:

ofelia by wyrazobcy

(Source: stellacu.deviantart.com, via youreyesblazeout)

rebelheartscouture:

Karlie Kloss photographed by Nick Knight for Garage magazine, s/s 2014
Mar 27

rebelheartscouture:

Karlie Kloss photographed by Nick Knight for Garage magazine, s/s 2014

(via discoverastudio)

youreyesblazeout:

Gorgeous
Mar 27

youreyesblazeout:

Gorgeous

(Source: traitane)

Mar 27

strandbooks:

Marked passage from Despair by Vladimir Nabokov, page 117.

Mar 27

(Source: dojiahol735, via zombiegraycat)

Mar 23

universalequalityisinevitable:

Peter Joseph on structural violence, from this video.

(via zombiegraycat)

"But under the silence of what we say to each other, is the much more articulate silence of what we don’t say to each other, a storm of things unspoken, coiled, reserved, appointed, ticking away like a clock attached to a time-bomb: crash, fire, demolition wound up in the quietly, almost tenderly, small, familiar things unspoken."

- Tennessee Williams, closing lines to section III of “A Separate Poem,” from The Collected Poems of Tennessee Williams, ed. David Roessel and Nicholas Moschiovakis (New Directions, 2002)

(Source: apoetreflects, via thediaryofayounglady)

Mar 23
Mar 22

(Source: freepeople.com, via youreyesblazeout)