Coffee makes me feel philosophical, so: there's a poem, a famous poem, called "On First Looking into Chapman's Homer". It was written by John Keats, and it talks about how a really good work of art can spark something inside you, some great new outlook on life. It's all about Apollo and the Delos and the Greeks and stuff, and who doesn't love the Greeks? Well, except the Trojans I guess. Anyway, the ending goes like this:
...[L]ike stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He star'd at the Pacific — and all his men Look'd at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
That's a little like how I feel right now, you know? Or I think it is anyway, I was never much of an English student. But I think it's saying how sometimes, great new experiences go beyond words you know? I've seen so much stuff at this college, most of it really fucki weird but I'm better for having seen it. I can't put it into words most of the time, and I'm not the sort of guy who speaks for the sake of speaking, so I think some people interpret that as being boring? I'm not the life of the party, I know I never will be, but how much is that is because of my natural state, and how much of it is because -a little like Hernán Cortez- I'm staring at this college silent, upon in peak in Montenegro?
OK I guess 'staring' sounds weird, but it's artistic license you know? I'm not really watching everyone. For starters, I don't need to and for seconds it'd take me twice as long as everyone else and who the hell has that kind of free time?