One of my favorite poets of all time is T.S. Eliot. My boyfriend introduced me to him a few years ago via "The Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock." The first time I read it, I thought it was really weird. Even so, it kept coming back into my mind... I couldn't seem to shake it.
In my freshman year, we studied Prufrock English 214, and I fell in love with the poem. Every time I came to read Eliot's words, I seemed to find something new. The abstraction of the meaning of the verses made it possible to look at each sentence in a different light.
Prufrock's lament about measuring out his life in coffee spoons, and his continual self analyzation really stuck with me, and his eternal question "do I dare disturb the universe?" haunted me continually.
Some things seem to always come back to me in my writing. They sneak in without my knowing it, and they influence all that I write. The sea is one of these things, but Prufrock is undoubtedly another. Perhaps it is because I see a little of myself in him, perhaps it is because I fear becoming him. Perhaps, it is because I continually ask myself "do I dare, and do I dare?"
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