Grey.

Jan. 30th, 2007 04:08 pm
learnteach: (helmhead)
[personal profile] learnteach
The color of hell is grey.
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All that fire, all those reds and leaping movement, all the screams?  Drama.  Televised drama.  The true color of Hell is grey.  The grey of institutionalized walls, where the students are in prison and feel like prisoners.  The grey of the clothes they wear, since so many colors are banned as gang colors.  The grey of the food they eat, as bad as any served to British Tars. 

The grey of having a dream die, a little, every day.   Watching the predatory junior male targeting the freshman girl who wants to be popular, and knowing you can't do anything useful about it.   Dealing with the students that can't even muster hate towards the system, so instead work on noise and disrespect and insolent glares--especially that predatory junior male, because he can play a little basketball.  Seeing all the smart students fleeing the school, so the ones left are barely what you might consider adequate, but if you abandon them, then what?

Grey.

In a FIERY Hell, there is hope of Heaven.  Red light is light.  Loud noises can give way to heavenly music (which some might consider industrial goth.)    Pain means that perhaps. someday, you can feel pleasure--or at least the cessation of pain.

Greyness means feeling nothing.

The color of hell is grey.

Date: 2007-01-31 03:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] redsquirrel.livejournal.com
It has been said that the opposite of love is hate. That is not true; love and hate are different sides of the same coin. They both say that the object of this feeling matters. The opposite of both is ...not feeling. Anything.

One of the symptoms of depression is feeling nothing. Not joy, not sadness. Nothing. Depression is hell. I have been there. The fire is better. It at least proves that one can feel something.

You are right. Hell is grey.

Date: 2007-01-31 12:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cvirtue.livejournal.com
Yep, grey. You have my sympathies.

Last night, in my dream, you had a friendly and well-behaved yellow lab named "Learnteach."

Date: 2007-02-01 06:30 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tamingheadfauna.livejournal.com
g0atface's wooly friend, here:

What is scarier is that the Grey is in universities too.

Your line above about smart people fleeing resonates with me: the smart and visionary faculty where I am studying are either being "phased out" or leaving in droves along with the smart and visionary students. Any spark of either is beaten out of us with hypocritical rhetoric (is that an oxymoron?).

Hopefully, this is my last semester at the university. To a large extent, my experience of it has been the grey walls of prison; I joke (in the way a clown uses humor to speak the truth of a situation) that I am serving the last of my sentence here. And yet, there is an outraged part of me that thinks I should be proud of the place from which I am graduating. Yet, I find that I spend more time warning people away from the school if they have any intelligence or passion or vision in them.

So I act as your students do: I go about the paces and get to the places I need to be at the allotted time. I do the work that is required of me and I play the game of school. My disrespect may ooze out of me from time to time but, it is the only way I can survive until I get out of here.

And perhaps, this apathy is also tragic: school should (and can) be a place of reflection, education, learning, and exploration. It should (and can) be a place of rest and enjoyment along the journey, instead of something that is just borne until I can get to the next place.

Apologies for the ramble.

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