OK. It's not definite yet but I may have to abandon my BIG GOAL of becoming an expert in the poetry of William Blake.
It looks about as obscure as hieroglyphics. Hmm, I knew how to spell hieroglyphics. I did it slowly, but somehow my fingers knew how.
Definitely Blake had his own ideas. And he seems to have been immersed in the philosophy and social thought of his times.
He would've made a strange Twitterer. Just giving random verses with weird stuff all the time, seemingly in relation to nothing we'd know.
Urizen, Ahania, Albion, Los, Orc, Enitharmon, Leutha, Oothon, Antamon...Blake must've terrorized his mother with alphabet soup.
"Look what I spelled now, Ma!" ... "Yes, Billy, 'Manatha-Varcyon'...That's nice, but I don't think that's a word."
For me to become an expert in this, that would take a severe investment of time and effort. By the time I got done, I'd wonder why I did it.
Year after year would pass. I would be studying. Becoming grayer at my chair. Then one day I'd look up and go "I'm an expert." That'd be it.
At the end I'd be the Rip Van Winkle of scholars. All my family and friends would be dead, I'd walk the streets and see jet cars everywhere.
So, at the end of a long day, I'm officially abandoning my BIG GOAL of becoming a scholar, an expert in the poetry of William Blake...
It is simply too hard.