Year-End Review

Emeka Igbokwe

Pathways

Essay 5

May 9, 2010

Year-end Review

            In a few days my first year of college will be over. It has been quite an experience for me. I have met many new people and done a lot of new things. Socially, my year has been great but on the other hand my academic year was not that good; no where near what I planned it out to be.

            My first semester surprisingly went better than my second semester. The first semester I was totally new to the environment. I had to find out what I was doing and how to do it. Being in the pathways program I didn’t have to pick my classes because they were chosen for me. The classes given to me were English, Math, Psychology and Astronomy. When first hearing about the classes chosen for me I was a bit confused as to why they would give a Biology major an astronomy class; I didn’t make much sense to me. It actually didn’t make sense to me what I was in The Pathways Program to begin with. I knew people who did worst than me in high school who were in the school with a regular admission but I was placed into the program. Despite that going into my first year I didn’t plan to repeat the mistakes I made in high school so being in Pathways didn’t totally faze me as much as it began to as the semester went by. To my pleasure my classes were every other day; meaning I didn’t have to go to class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. In my head I thought this was I very good situation for me. Whatever work I got on Monday I would just hold myself up in my room the next day and get everything I needed done. Then on Wednesday I would easily turn in whatever I needed to turn in. that was easier said than done though.

            Early in the semester my plan worked pretty well but as I began to meet more people and find more things to do, I started to stray from my plan. It was either sitting idol at the residential dining hall on going to the gym there was some sort of temptation that tried to stop me from doing what I had to do. It wasn’t even a matter of the work being hard; as usual it was a matter of me applying myself to my work. I began to fall back into my bad high school habits. The worst part about it was I knew what was happening and I didn’t do much to stop it. I was never a library person because in the past, whenever I went to the library I ended up going something that took my attention away from the task at hand. To make what I was doing even more naïve, I was doing this despite the fact that I was promised a car if I kept my grades up, but it just was not happening. It wasn’t until mid-term time that I made the decision to begin going to the library because my room situation was not cohesive with my attempts. But after mid-terms my tendencies began to come back. This time though, it wasn’t as bad and I made it to the end of the semester with an average grade.

            Second semester arrives and it starts out with bad. Because of certain issues I was not able to register for my classes until a week into the semester so I started out with a lot of work to do. The classes I chose for the second semester were English 102, Philosophy, Ethics and Sociology. Although most of the classes started off good I noticed that as I tried to work on the work that I missed in the first week I saw myself still behind but I kept going trying to do better than I did the last semester. By mid-term I was doing a bit better than I was in the previous semester but nothing too special. I still letting the bad habits stop me from getting my work done and it wasn’t making my situation any better. Spring break came around and it was well anticipated. I planned to go to Florida, have some fun and then come back ready to get some work done when I got back to school. I ended up not going on my trip and instead I stayed home. Surprisingly, I got two essays done while I was home for the week and I felt like that was a good sign. When I got back I did alright for the first week and then I went back to procrastinating. As I coasted, I saw the year coming to an end and I didn’t want to fail a class so I decided to try and get as much work done as I can.

            With the end of the semester right around the corner I came to the conclusion that in the year to come I have to do everything different. There is no way to eliminate all distractions but in order to make a change there has to be something new. I plan on cutting out my social tendencies, drastically. As cliché as it may sound the library is going to be another home for me. With the obligations I may have next year, there will be no place for coasting especially if I plan to achieve my grand plan of transferring and working towards my PharmD; a task that will be impossible if I keep the habits that I have now. Next year I am trying out for the football team. That is one of the ways I plan to use to try and help myself to stay focused. Since there is a requirement to play, I will have to keep my grades up and I’m not going to let grades stop me from playing. In the recent weeks that have passes I feel I have begun on the road to change and I plan to keep it up.

Parade Riddim Blog

Emeka Igbokwe
Pathways
Blog 3
February 4, 2011

Parade Riddim

    I press play on my Ipod and I hear the tap of a symbol four times; tap-tap-tap-tap. The beat immediately drops after that. The hard beat is a synthesized note but it sounds like a slow and irregular heart beat. Boom boom, boom boom, boom, three times consecutively until the heart beat sound changes. Its almost like steps to a dance 1-2 1-2-3. In a car with some nice bass speakers this beat would crash down the street. After the third time the beat turns changes into a sound that is almost like the sound of a bee buzzing. Buzz buzz buzz buzz buzz-buzz  another three times but on the fourth you hear buzz buzz buzz. A second later an electronic horn blows twice and at the same time the heart beat begins again. The horn and heart beat repeats 5 times and then the sequences are repeated throughout the riddim in reverse and then in correct order.
     At the beginning of the song along with the first heart beat sound a cryptic-like chorus plays in the background. The chorus sounds like the beginning of the Halo video game on a loop, gives the riddim a celestial feel. At first it plays for about 21 seconds, then it goes out for another 21 seconds. Thinking that it would play in that sequence for the whole song, I am surprised to hear that it only plays for about 9 seconds and does not play for about 30 seconds after. I feel like I am listening to angels sing while playing video games while at a party dancing. This for sure is a odd combination, but at the same time a euphoric sense.
    With this riddim, the DJ that created it decided to put a few, choice words in it. Most of the time there are no words in a riddim alone, until the artists that are given the riddim make the song with it. The voice in the song if that of Gappy Ranks a reggae/dancehall artist. He was one of the artists who made a song on this riddim. Half way threw the song, lines from the song play and every few bars they repeat. The last sounds heard are the horns, bumbum seven times and then four or five seconds later the fading out of the halo chorus.

A bold Sole

Emeka Igbokwe
Pathways
Blog1
February 6 2011

    Its my first winter in Dartmouth Massachusetts and I'm rather enjoying it. The weather is just like I expected of an area near water. Loads of snow dumped all over campus and as a December baby I feel just at home. I never understood why people scorn snow so much. Snow is one of the most beautiful natural occurrences to me. I'm one of those people that can sit at a window and just watch the snow fall for hours until a get tired. The next day I wake up just as excited to look out the window and the powdered covered trees. Its such a sight to see for me. I'm one of those kids that never really minded shoveling because I would be playing in the snow at the same time.
    About a week after returning from winter break me and a group of friends were at the residential dining hall and it had been snowing for a few hours. That snow added to the snow that was already on the ground was the perfect amount for a snowball fight. It had been years since I last had a snowball fight and I was ready for this. Quickly, word of the snowball fight spread through the room. It was funny seeing people walk back and forth whispering in each others ears saying, “Snowball fight in the quad after dinner.” After the message was sent one of two responses was seen; either a smile and a nod saying yes they were going to be there or a I scowl and a look replying, “what do I look like playing in the snow its too cold for all of that.” Nevertheless, we got our group and headed back to the quad. The fight started as we walked to the quad. Unsuspecting girls got thrown into piles of snow while guys started tackling other guy. It was a fun ten minute walk that fueled us to want start right that moment an all out battle. Instead, we agreed to go inside and change into more comfortable clothes and come back out a 8 o’clock.
    When everyone came back out we decided to make the game man-hunt/ snowball fight boys vs. girls then we started. 45 minutes later were still playing hard. I get hit in the back and pursue who the group closest to me. The turn the corner behind the building I live in. so I don’t get ambushed a call two guys and the three of us start the chase. We get to the open field the my window faces and its nothing but a blanket of snow. In that blanket is the footprints of the girls that ran in this direction. I look closer and I can see the exact imprint of their shoes. It was three girls, two of them it was obvious what shoes they were wearing but the other was questionable. I saw it was a flat bottom shoe which was weird because its foolish to be running in snow with no grip; that’s how someone slips and hurts themselves. I follow the tracks a little more and I start to recognize the shape of the shoe. It was flat but I had a little heel to it. A few more feet ahead and what I see slaps me in the face. I exclaim, “Hey! Who wears Sperrys in to play in the snow?” I stood there and laughed; one of these girls is running around with a pair of Sperry Top-Sider Boat shoes on. She is officially a prime target! Wearing a pair of Sperrys in the snow is almost like walking around barefoot. Within ten minutes you'll have frozen toes. Sperrys are low too so if the snow is over three inches there will be snow in the shoe too. The now outside while we were playing was up to six or seven inches so which ever girl was out here in those would be in pain soon.
    I never found out who the girl was that night. She finally realized it was a bad idea to be running around in boat shoes. Boat shoes are stylish for sure, but they lack, highly, in the winter functional department. I have a few pair myself, but I would never wear them in that kind of situation. She would have been pretty angry if she got frostbitten toes.

The All Too Easy, Crazy, Save Me Essay

Emeka Igbokwe
Pathways
Essay 5
December 15, 2010
The All Too Easy, Crazy, Save Me Essay
    Going into college, doubt was never something that plagued my mind. My success would depend on whether I did my work or not. Confidently, I went into classes ready to do what I have to get the grade. My list of classes were, English, Psychology, Astronomy and Math Statistics. Eager to get the grade I got to work in all of those classes. I wasn’t ready to procrastinate or postpone anything to the last minute.
    Of the four classes the most interesting was Astronomy while all the others were simple classes that I took in the past, but for some reason the past seemed to be repeating itself. I started off well in all of the classes and all for the most part did well in all of them, except for English. For some reason English always somehow managed to slip out of hand and I would have to play “catch up” with my grade. Midterm came and I had a C-. Wanting a better grade than that, I attempted to refocus myself on the work and raise my grade. With the semester coming to an end, I find out my grade is the same! Confusion is the only thing that in my mind. I felt I did almost everything I could to change my act and raise my grade to find out it didn’t move at all. I begin to become a bit angered. I’m ready to give up until I find out there is one last chance… A narrative ! One of the easiest forms of writing, is the final essay for the class. Something that comes out of my head, with no need of research or the most annoying part of an essay, the dreaded works cited page. All I need to do is write about an event that happened this semester, whether academic or non-academic. This seem to be the perfect assignment for me.
    I tell myself I’m going to get this essay done well before the deadline. I passed in the 4th essay on time and the day after I planned to get to work on the narrative. On the next day, Saturday, I woke up with a plan for the day. The list went like this: Breakfast from 12:00 to 2:00, laundry from 2:30 to 4:30, statistics study group from 5:00 to 6:00, psychology group from 6:15 to 7:30 and then I start the essay from 7:45 to 9:00. After 9 o’clock I was in relax/party mode. Everything was going according to plan until it became time for the psychology group. Waiting at the library for the other four people that were supposed to be studying I sat there until 8 o’clock when only two of the four people in the group came. Aggravated that none of them thought to call and tell me they were coming late or not coming at all, we began studying, studying that cut into the time that I set aside for my essay. At 9:30 the group finally finished the material but I knew I had to get at least a paragraph of the essay done. I went from topic to topic. It was almost impossible to think of an event to write about. I wrote the first paragraph and a half originally intending to write about how I got a 94 on my first statistics exam and left the library at 10:30. Now, I had 30 minutes to shower and get ready for the Cape Verdian Student Association (CVSA) Christmas party. After 11 o’clock they would turn everyone who was waiting to get in to the party away and I didn’t want that to happen to me again like it happened the last party. I made it into the party at 10:58 with an hour and two minutes until my birthday. Being my birthday I was determined to have fun because there’s not much to do on a Sunday, with no vehicle. I stepped in my room at 5 o’clock in the morning, drained from a great night of fun.
    I wake up to a sunset, apparently I slept through the whole day, I looked at the clock to see it was around 4:30. Once I get out the shower I look at my phone and see I have 11 missed calls. Then it dawns on me that it’s still my birthday. On top of the misses calls I’m still getting calls from family and friends. Happy birthdays turn into hows college and by the time I realize it its 8:30. When I finally attempt to begin my essay, I get a knock at my door. When I open the door, it’s a group of my close friends with a cake and balloons. Within an hour or so, the suggestion of going out to eat is brought up and off we go to T.G.I. Fridays. From there we drive around to a bakery for more sweets which I must say were delicious. I get home at 2 a.m. tired from laughing and eating and in a matter of minutes I’m sleeping; still having only a paragraph and a half– about 75 words of the 1000 word essay done.
    The next day I wake up for class at 8 a.m. Classes go by and I have more study sessions. I don’t have free time until 6 p.m. and I know its time for me to finally do this essay. The computer is on and ready. I turn the television off and now all I need is my flash-drive. I reach inside my bag to get it and its not in there. I look into everyone of the pockets that I wore on the Saturday while I was at the library and it wasn’t there either. Perplexed and infuriated, I begin to take apart my room. I look through every article of clothing and still it is no where to be found. At this point I don’t know what to do. My only option is to start it over. The only reason I even considered starting it over was because I didn’t have much done to begin with. So I sit down and  get to work. Four hours later I’m just a paragraph away from a finished product. I make the decision to stop working for the night and I make sure I save it to the computer. On Tuesday I barely think of the essay because I know I would be able to finish it easily. So, I parlay through the day. I eat, hang-out, and then go to the gym. By the time I get back to the room its 12:15 in the morning and after a shower I lay down with the computer and before I know it the hours I put in at the gym put me to sleep like a baby.
    CRASH! A few hours later I wake up to find my laptop on the floor. Thank goodness it was in one piece, but from the height of which it fell I was afraid to even turn it on. As I fell asleep, the only thing on my mind was whether it would turn on or not. Wednesday’s classes happen, the final classes of the semester, they last tests of my first semester of college. I get through them with only two things on my mind. 1. The semester is basically over. 2. Its not over because I have one more paragraph on a computer that I don’t even know will turn on. I get to my room and turn pick up the laptop from the table. I turn it on and wait. Five minutes go by and the light is on but the screen is black. Ten more minutes and the same thing is happening. After another 15 minutes, I take the power cord out and leave the room. To my mistake, I left with out my key or phone; my room mate was at the library and my RA was nowhere to be found, probably at the library too. So I go to a friends room and wait for my room mate and RA, going back to knock of the doors every hour or so. By 2 o’clock I was asleep in the friends room tired from waiting and aggravation. At about 6 a.m., I wake up and rush to my room and bang on the door. My room mate comes opens the door confused and I explain what happened. With my second attempt I wait 45 minutes and then finally the computer fully powers on. I finish the last paragraph and now I wait to see what grade I will get on the essay that could save my grade.

Essay 3

Emeka Igbokwe
Pathways
Essay 3 Finally
November 20, 2010

Death is a Good Thing:
Techniques of Edger Allan Poe and Hans Baldung Grien

    Art is a matter of interpretation. From poetry to paintings, every work of art has a meaning, its just the task of finding out exactly what that meaning is. Something like poetry might be hard to analyze. In  some poems a title may mislead the reader into believing one thing, then once the poem has been read it might mean something totally different. In other poems though, the title is a direct suggestion of what the poem means. Writers like Edger Allen Poe often do things like this in his poetry. His way of writing was very distinct, it was either something grim or had to do with love but he always managed to  incorporate the theme of death into the work somehow. Interpreting paintings is, in a way, an easier task to complete. Many paintings show exactly what their meanings are, while one of the few aspects left to interpret is the inspiration for the painting being made. Once a reason for a painting to be made is known, it should be easier to understand what the poem means. Hans Baldung Grien was a painter during the 1300’s. Many of his painting featured sex, love and death as genres. In almost all of the paintings these genres were exhibited clearly.
    Edger Allen Poe, an American writer, knew how to catch his audience attention when writing. Like most of his writings, his early life was a tragic one. Before the age of three, both of his parents were out of his life. His father was claimed by an unknown sicknesses while it was speculated that his mother was killed by pneumonia. Many say that, along with a few other factors, was what influenced his writing style to be so grim and psychologically thrilling. Poems like “For Annie” were on the other side of the spectrum. This was one of his poems that had to do with the theme of love. Hans Baldung Grien lived earlier than Poe. While Poe was born in 1809 Baldung lived from 1484 to 1545. There was 264 year gap between the two but what they based their art on was often similar. Baldung, like Poe was born into an established family. Baldung’s family was composed of doctors and lawyers and because of that he was able to learn a lot in the artistic field; even before he served as an assistant to Albrecht Dürer (possibly one of the greatest German renaissance artists). Many of his paintings showed some sort of progression and then, much like Poe, Baldung dropped death into the portrait; one of his paintings is called Three Ages of Woman and Death.
    In the painting Three Ages of Woman and Death Baldung seems to paint four characters. Looking closer, it is apparent that there are only two real characters in the painting. There is a woman but Baldung showed the woman in three different stages of her life. At the bottom left corner of the painting is the woman as a little baby. To the right of the baby is the woman as a teenager or an adult. This woman has long hair, down to her calves and she is standing looking at what seems to be a mirror but her reflection cannot be seen. To her left and standing over the baby is the last version of the woman. This is an old hag of a woman. On the other side of the photo is a skeletal figure that seems to be falling apart. As defined in the name of the painting, this being is most likely death. Both of its hands are occupied in the painting. In one hand, it is holding up a hour glass that seems to be half full and in the other hand it is holding the only piece of garment covering the young woman and the baby. None of the women seem to be acknowledging each other. The only acknowledgment seemed to be between death and the old woman. The old woman seemed to be looking and reaching up to the hour grass but at the same time she has a terrified look on her face. The baby was preoccupied with the small garment that was covering her, seeming not have a care in the world.
    Nancy “Annie” Richmond was a woman Poe befriended in  Lowell, Massachusetts at a lecture on American poetry. As time went on, his feelings for her became stronger but because she was a married woman he knew he would not be able to act upon his feelings. Instead he framed his emotions in a poem dedicated to her titled, “For Annie”. The poem was an elating one; starting off with an optimistic: Thank Heavens ! As the poem goes on, he describes how this danger, this illness, this fever is finally over. He proclaims how he has conquered this terrible thing called life. He cannot move at all, and he is laying straight out but despite that he feels better than he ever has. He lays so “composedly”, no “moaning and groaning”, no “sighing and sobbing” they have all stopped. Even that horrible throbbing in his heart has stopped. He declares again how that maddening fever called life is finally over. He further attributes it with sickness and pain; whatever life he was living before could not compare to what the situation is for him at the moment. The whole time he has been searching to quench some insatiable thirst for something natural and he has finally found it. In some fountain or spring, under ground in a cavern not too deep, there is a natural water that he has attained at last. In this bed that all men sleep in is where he slumbers, but this bed is neither gloomy nor narrow. He lies an dreams while the beauty of Annie is drowned in her hair. She kisses and caresses him while he falls gently yet deeply asleep in her breast that he describes as heaven. He lays there and Annie preys that the angels keep him safe. As he lays there those who see him see death but his heart shines bright with the thought of the eyes of Annie.
    Baldung’s painting had two aspects to it, life and death. The painting would almost have made sense without the manifestation of death. It would have showed the progression of life from childhood to adulthood. Not only that but it would show the points of life that occupied them the most at the ages that were represented; the baby being occupied with something as trivial as a piece of cloth and the young woman taken up with her appearance, but without death and the hour-glass being depicted in the painting what would the elderly woman have to look forward to? That question is what helps give the painting meaning. All anyone has to look forward to is the inevitability of death. The old woman is inevitably looking at time pass until her last hour comes.
    For Annie was filled with optimism and elation. Every line had to do with the happiness of Poe being with Mrs. Richmond. Somehow though, Poe managed to incorporate his, seemingly, favorite theme of death into such a lively poem. What made Poe decide to talk about love as death? Was he really dead? In the third and fourteenth stanzas he stated that those who see him might fancy him of think of him as dead. He implies that it is only a sight to see, which must mean he is actually alive. Poe must be so overcome with this love that he has for Annie that he is sent into this euphoric-like bliss in which nothing matters any more. In stanza six and seven when he talks about the river that he has finally been given the opportunity to drink from, it is the river of love that he has splurged on. With the addition of the mistaken identity of death for love, the poem’s ability to entice the reader to find out what the actual reason for this death is.
    Both of these works of art would have depicted a meaning well, without the addition of the death theme. But because the theme of death was added, the meaning was enhanced. The theme of death makes meanings and lessons seem life long. Whether the message is conveyed through word or picture, if the theme of death is depicted well and can be interpreted, the meaning that is picked up from the art will be a memorable one because the person comprehending the message is able to put it in perspective.

Annotated Bibliography

Eberhard Ruhmer. “Albrecht Durer.” Encyclopedia Britannica. Academic edition. 2010. The Encyclopædia Britannica is one of the most trusted encyclopedias in the world. The information obtained was biographical information on Albrecht Durer, the mentor of Hans Baldung.

"For Annie by Edgar Allan Poe." Edgar Allan Poe, Short Stories, Tales, and Poems. Web. 24 Nov. 2010. <http://poestories.com/read/annie>.This is the website where I obtained the poem "For Annie" by Edgar Allan Poe. The website has a number of his works and a brief biography.

Kennedy, J. Gerald. A Historical Guide to Edgar Allan Poe. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2001. Print. From this book I received biographical information on Edgar Allan Poe and other trivial information like who Mrs. Nancy "Annie" Richmond was and information about Poe's family.

The Editors of The Encyclopædia Britannica. “Hans Baldung.” Encyclopædia Britannica. Academic edition. 2010. The Encyclopædia Britannica is one of the most trusted encyclopedias in the world. The information obtained from this encyclopedia was biographical information on Hans Baldung, an artist that lived during the 1300’s. Also, a painting called “Three Ages of Woman and Death” was taken

Thomas, Dwight, and David Kelly. Jackson. The Poe Log: a Documentary Life of Edgar Allan Poe, 1809-1849. Boston: G.K. Hall, 1987. Print. This book was used to obtain biographical information about Edgar Allan Poe

Blog 3

    During mid July I took a trip to Miami Florida. My cousin just graduated with a Pharmaceutical degree so the family was throwing her a party. We had been preparing for the party for months, expecting the turnout to be great. The day before the party was a rush; everyone was in a scurry to make sure everything was in order for the next night. The house was hectic as people walked in and out with supplies. Because I didn’t know the area that much I was given the job to fill the gas tanks of all the cars at the end of the day.
    There were five cars and all of their tanks were empty. I decided to have one of my cousins come with me so I wouldn’t be doing all of the work by myself. Within 40 minutes we were down to the last car. As I sped down the street I decided to scare my cousin a little bit because it was basically his first time driving with me. The first four trips I drove cautiously so when I started to swerve through the traffic he got a bit scared; understandable since I was driving 60 mph on a 45 mph zone. As the street came to an end the light turned yellow. I knew I could beat it, so I drove faster but then some guy came out of the a side street and managed to cut me off and he was going faster than me.
    As a driver with a competitive spirit, I was not going to allow him to show me up; I was driving a Dodge Charger while he was driving a Chrysler mini-van so I had to catch up to him. As we raced up to the signal light he slowed down while I was still going very fast. Luckily, the car was brand new so the brakes were still perfect. With a screeching halt I stopped with about two inches of space between his bumper and mine.
    As my cousin and I waited behind him, a red bumper sticker on the mini-van caught my eye. The sticker read “If you can read this, I can stop suddenly and sue you!”. Immediately I began laughing hysterically. Perplexed, my cousin looked at me wondering what was going on. The light turned green and we pulled into the gas station. I walked up to the mini-van with my phone to take a picture of the sticker, while my cousin was still bewildered as to why I was laughing. Once I moved away from the van my cousin looked down. Within a second the whole gas station heard him “Oh” with realization of what was so amusing to me.
    We topped the tank, then started to drive home. I drove slowly so we could take in the irony. To think, if that light wasn’t there, with the speed I was driving, if he stopped short, I would have been getting sued in the state of Florida.

Blog 2

    Mike Gerbino is a young poet from Rochester New York. He was a contestant on the HBO special Brave New World; a poetry competition where youths from all over America come together to speak their minds artistically. Mike Gerbino recited a poem called “Ugly Sunset”. The poem described how the sunset meant and caused so many things, not only to Mike but in general to everyone who has ever been affected by the things he spoke of in the poem. In his performance, the passion he put forth emphasized his point on how even though sunsets appear so physically beautiful; “If there ever was a moment to be labeled 'poetic', this was it. She was everything. And we were endless”; so many “ugly” things happen. He says, “This is to that sunset, which claims to be beautiful with it's shapes, and shades, and mystical colors but really...it's one ugly motherfucker. That sunset has put an end to more beautiful days than you'd care to count. That sunset is the reason for teen curfews, and little girls being taken from their homes. That sunset is the cause of evil worldwide. Fuck that thing! You can paint your canvas and snap your photos, but I submit that that is one ugly sunset. That sunset, in all of it's hideous glory, barked death threats at me, and told me that if I thought it was so fucking ugly, that I shouldn't look at it. And that if I thought these feelings were so painful, that I shouldn't write poetry about them.” He states negative things that happen when the sun sets like little girls being taken from their homes. To think something like that could happen because the sun is going down. But then he seems to switch his stance on how evil and hideous sunsets are. He goes further to say how in reality, ugly is actually beautiful. “I looked at that sunset, because even ugly is beautiful. And humanity holds no standards, so kissing this audience with my break-up poem is not self indulgent. It's taking something ugly, and painful, and heartbreaking beyond comprehension, and showing you just how fucking beautiful life can be.” In the last line he reveals that he is not just talking about a sunset but he is using that sunset to represent life. He is saying that no matter awful life can be it is still a beautiful thing. Life can cause so much pain but the fact that you are living life it the beauty but you have to actually work to find. “I appreciate beauty no matter how difficult it is to find. I hope you can do the same.” The only thing is people are sometimes too afraid to look for a way to make it beautiful. “Ugly sunset. Ducking beneath that horizon. What are you so afraid of?” That's his opening and closing statement and that is a question many people should ask themselves.