the matrix has you

10:56 AM: as i leave my room for my 11:oo brit lit class, thoughts race through my mind about my professor's sinister promise to lock the doors once class starts for the rest of the semester (all of 3 remaining classes) and i suddenly quicken my pace. i start thinking that something is terribly wrong, so i look in my hands and suddenly realize that my notebook isn't in either of them. i instantly race back to my room to retrieve it and try to will my unnecessarily heavy door to close faster once i acquired the vital fold of paper. i promptly speed towards the Jennings building much like a corporate magnate that is late for a meeting, but refuses to run because of his indispensable dignity. Before i know it, i scale three flights of stairs with a speed that would rival Eric Liddell's and plow into class, desperately trying to mask my body's insatiable need for oxygen as i sit down (all the while remembering that my professor ALWAYS needs to iterate his lectures twice and that wednesday was only session one of his proverbial schpeel about Shelley's 'Ode to the West Wind').

11:01 AM: i slowly regain my composure in my seat/desk that really should be reserved for grade schools and try to focus on the semi- heard oration on the purpose of poetry, perception of reality, the distortion of experience, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera (don't get me wrong, here. my brit lit professor is actually one of the best teachers i've ever had). i catch a few dispersed thoughts in my not-rainy-but-completely-cloudy-day-that-makes-you-think-of-desolation-and-despair state of mind that sound of 'remembered thoughts are greater than the initial reaction to reality' and 'absolute relation of experience requires an artist's touch' and my introspective cognition immediately turns to quotes from Morpheus of 'The Matrix' (the one that was actually good). "what is real? how do you define real? if real is what you can feel, smell, taste, and see, then 'real' is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain." "welcome to the Real World." "what if you were unable to wake from that dream? how would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world?" i'm sure these are all thoughts that have run through our minds at one point or another. however, i would define 'real' as something that is actually there. something that, irrelevant of what we feel or touch or experience, is there. this would have to be something independent and based on nothing but absolute truth; perhaps even something unprovable by our own thoughts. i've often thought that our lives are actually synonymous with The Matrix; that we're plugged into this false reality, perceiving that this life is the real thing and Heaven is somehow less because it's intangible. but the fact is Heaven is more real than this place. right now we are experiencing an earthly life and waiting to be "unplugged" from this lowly reality. that once we are in Heaven, we'll truly experience reality; the reality God intended us to feel.

11:32 AM: as i seep out of the trance of my own thoughts, i continue to carelessly jot down the phrases my professor emphasizes the most and, once i get the carrots out of my ears, begin to listen as he relates the assertions of Shelley, Coleridge, and Wordsworth to Platonic theory. The passionate orator continues to point out this analogy proposed by Plato:

most of the people in this world are like remnants of a cave, viewing shadows on a wall projected by a fire filtered by cut-out shapes and accepting this sight as their reality. only a few will view this and believe that shadows don't just appear; they have to come from somewhere, so they turn around and investigate. they've never seen direct light before, so they are blinded at first, but as their eyes adjust, they see the fire and the shapes and realize what the shadows really are. only a few of these will investigate further and venture out of the caves, and as their eyes adjust again, view a completely new world, complete with colors and shapes they've never seen before. they come to a lake and see in the reflection trees and mountains and stars in the sky and think to themselves, "this has to be the real world." still, only a few of these will look up and see the actual trees, mountains, stars and think, "this has to be the real world."

i think to myself, "isn't that so true." so many of us are trapped in a cave believing that this world and this life is all there is to it. very little of us will stop to think, "no, there has to be more." we venture out and realize that though the truth is so much more threatening, it is completely liberating at the same time. there are also those who are so frightened by this outside truth that they will cower back into the cave and pretend that the cave is all there is (much like Joe Pantoliano's character in Matrix).

11:48 AM: my professor reminds the class that we will be going over Keats on monday (and i remember he made the same promise about today on wednesday) and dismisses the class. i'm the first one out of the room because i drank coffee before class and have to get going like yesterday. and i think to myself, "this is so going to be a blog."