Perspectives on Myself Melissa Boylan English 211 Dr. Benvenuto March 13, 1975 What an original approach & effort. Sound, smooth, insightful & almost poetic writing. This is crossing the safe familiar limits into a new genre & mode of expression, & certainly one of the most interesting papers I ve read in a long while. Dr. Benvenuto I have tried to imagine what some of my belongings would think of me if they could think and express themselves. Each has a different perspective on my life. But the most important part of the exercise is probably that it reveals what I think of myself. None of these belongings has been with me throughout my life, and none is with me all the time. So a complete personality analysis is impossible, except perhaps through my pen, who thinks of himself as being so objective and knowledgeable of my life. But obviously, I don t write down everything about myself, even in my diary. My choice of objects tells something of me. I can identify with them, and they are part of me. I found that I projected some of my own feelings on them. The Mirror in my dorm room I can see it all. There is a girl there. She has brown hair and brown eyes. That is all I need to know. She is always playing with her hair or putting things on her face. She is drying her hair now. Sometimes it takes forever with one of those hand-held hair dryers. Ah! There is someone else. It s her boyfriend again. They aren t paying much attention to me. They just left. Her roommate is gone too. Sometimes they leave, and there is nothing for hours. I just reflect the same old posters. There are sometimes periods of complete darkness. I think it is called night. Fortunately, the nights are getting shorter. It is always such a relief when the first ray of sun comes in the morning. Every ten weeks or so, my perspective changes. They move everything in the room around, including me. In my current position, there isn t much to do. It is so far away
from the door. I mostly just reflect the two roommates. But it is closer to the window. A lot happens there. It changes constantly. Every year, new girls come into the room. There are new faces and pictures. These two seem pretty quiet. But they keep getting rowdier. More and more people have been coming into the room for visits. They don t pay much attention to me. Even if I only see a portion of the room at a time, I have seen almost every angle at some time. Each view is somewhat restricted, but what I see I see perfectly. My reflections are only minimally distorted. At first, the changes in perspectives confused me, but now I see a pattern. The room doesn t change, just the way I look at it. Someday, I will have seen all. I wish I could see everything at once, instead of having to piece it all together. The Candle on my desk She has lit me again! She must be powerful. She is studying again. That is all she seems to do. She daydreams a lot too. I try to distract her with my flickering and glowing, but it doesn t do much good with the other light on. I have such little power. My scope is so small. If she leaves her desk, she forgets all about me immediately. She does stare at me sometimes though and reshapes my wax. Oh no! She is going to blow me out! There she is again. Sometimes I think she studies too much, but sometimes I think she daydreams too much. I always waver in my decisions. I can never make up my mind. She has lit some other candles today. We have more power together. But I think she likes me best. She never lights the others without lighting me. I have seen some f the smaller candles disappear. My wax is dwindling away fast too. I don t have much time either just a few more lightings... My Plant I really like it here. At first I wasn t sure, because of all the repotting and commotion. Then there was that birthday party. (I was her birthday present a couple weeks ago.) It was so noisy, and it got so smoky. I didn t like that at all. But things have settled down. She mostly just studies or sleeps. Melissa and her roommate are gone a lot anyway. It is so peaceful. I must try to reach the light. I wish I could get closer to it. That is the only problem with this room. It doesn t get much sun, and Melissa s roommate has so many plants. (She is horticulture major.) They take up most of the space. So I am relegated to the bookcase. (It s closer to Melissa here though.) Sometimes during the day, she moves me right in front of the window, but it is so cold there. I have to keep warm. I think Melissa wants to talk to me, but she never does. Oh well, at least she thinks about me. It s all the same to me. Karen (Melissa s roommate) thinks about her plants all the 2
time. But Melissa has only two of us to worry about. I think we get more attention in the long run. I don t think she feels too close to me yet. But she thinks nice thoughts about me. I give her a good feeling inside. She waters me and mists me. Once she even worried that she watered me too much. But it s all right. I m a lot sturdier than she thinks. Even if she doesn t know a lot about plants, I trust her to find out. She asks questions. I m sure I will grow into her heart. Right now, she is worried about what to do with me next week while she s home. I think I m going to her sister s. I hope it s nice there. I have to reach the light. One night when she just got me, she put me on her desk, next to her, while she studied. That was fun. I need a lot of attention. I have to grow. I wonder what Melissa is growing towards. It must have something to do with those books. She is always groping for them. I feel sorry for her; she always has so much to do. She can rarely take it easy. She flits from one activity to the next. It must be terrible not to be rooted. She has to get her own water and is responsible for herself. I know she d rather sit and look at me sometimes rather than deal with her responsibilities. But I guess that isn t the way she grows. She did rest and relax last night though after taking her finals. I think it is good for her. I guess she can t grow all the time. I am growing so much. I feel so good. One of my stems got so tall, it had to bend over.i have to reach the light.in the summer she won t have to study. She can devote more time to me. I do my best growing in the summer. Maybe she can grow in other ways then. My blue midi-coat Let s go! I wonder where we-re going now. I m pretty pliable. I m ready for anything. We re going to registration again. Oh well. Sigh! Usually we just go to classes. At class she just sits on me. They talk about the most boring things, economics, sociology, etc. I don t see how she can stand it. Sometimes she is pretty restless though, especially at the end of each class. I spend most of the time in the closet. Even when we go to Bill s, her boyfriend s house, I just end up in another closet. Or even worse, she throws me on the bed or on the floor. Sometimes she is proud of me, and I do keep her warm. But I wish she were rowdier, so we could go the exciting places more often. On weekend nights we usually end up going to Bill s. Once she even made me go to the Detroit Symphony. How boring! Gordon Lightfoot was a little better. Sometimes we do go exciting places though. We ll probably go home soon. It has been almost ten weeks. Last time we went home, we went to a tree farm and cut down a Christmas tree. The most fun we had all term was when we went to Ann Arbor with Bill. I was with her all day. It was really cold out, and she loved me. We walked around a lot, and we went to the Pretzel Bell. But I can t figure out why she wanted to go to all those bookstores, Ugh! 3
I have been with her for three years, through thick and thin. I have seen a lot, especially since we ve came to college. The last few months have been a lot more exciting. We go more and more places, and she makes more and more friends. I have a feeling that if I were a spring jacket, I d have a lot more fun. She doesn t seem to like winter much. Soon I will have to be shut up for the summer. That is certainly no fun. Next winter might be my last one. I guess I m getting a little shabby. I prefer to think well-used. I wish she wouldn t throw me around so much. I wouldn t look so bad now. My Cross pen She is always in such a hurry. She writes so fast sometime, especially in class, that I can barely keep up. She never seems to settle down. As soon as class is over, she sticks me in her purse, and we jounce along to another class. She s writing another paper now. That s a lot better than taking notes. It takes more thought, and she doesn t go so fast. She gets so carried away sometimes, writing such long papers though. Last fall I thought I was going to die. I had to write ten papers. But I m getting so smart, I can t believe it. But sometimes I have to do the most boring task underlining in textbooks. How can she be so cruel? It is such a waste. I m running out of ink. She is going to have to revive me. I must know more about her than any of her other belongings. She uses me so much, and she writes about all of her activities and anxieties in her diary. Of course, sometimes she writes her diary in pencil. Then I get jealous. I control so much of her life though. She writes her checks with me. She makes her lists of all the things she has to do, crossing things out as she finishes them. Then she makes a fresh list with still more things to do. I don t think she has ever had a chance to cross out everything on her lists. Where would she be without me? In the summer, I just stagnate though. All I do then is write letters. By the way coat, I ve known her for almost three years too. She got me as a going-away present at her job two summers ago. Since then, she has been very proud of me and my fine chrome finish. She loves me so much that she rarely even lends me to anyone. She is too sentimental sometimes. She gets moody like her silly plant and worries too much. I ve got her all analyzed. I saw her list for today. If I could only tell her coat what an exciting day he s in for registering, banking, shopping. That coat is always looking for a good time. He doesn t even know that he might go to Chicago next term. But he might also have to go to the Detroit museum unless it s too warm. She never seems to be satisfied with what she is doing either. That mirror thinks he s God, but he doesn t even know that her room isn t the universe. He misses so much and doesn t even know it. I guess she has problems sometimes piecing 4
everything together sometimes too. But at least she grows and doesn t think of herself as having found the ultimate truth in everything. She is stubborn though. Just like her candle, she can never make up her mind. She s always wavering in who and what she likes and wants to do. Sometimes she never even gets around to everything on her list, because she doesn t have time. But I guess she doesn t want to be as objective and rational as I. 5