PhD by Sandra Lee Schubert

We talked about things, the book. I told you I could not understand what the fuss was all about. I didn’t really like her writing anyway. How about the other one? The one who people think is so smart. I said she is nice and all. But I had a roommate who was getting her PhD who could not boil an egg or iron a shirt. I taught her all that. It’s not the PhD that impresses me, it is the ability to love. I said all these things, stupid things to keep talking, to keep my brain alive. I’ve got wild beasts caught in my throat you know. I have to keep talking to let them out. Ever wondered why all those old people talk all the time? Man, we must keep moving our mouths… move those beasties aside. I told you before when I go on and on about some petty thing the conversation I am having is not the conversation I am having. I am trying to get to something caught deep inside. If I told you all of it, I would have to start screaming. I would scream so loud and so long. I would throw my head back and scream until the last of the words left my body. I would fall on my hands and knees and beat the ground with my fists until it broke open. Satan himself would wake up to see what all the fuss was about. Instead, I sit here, and I tell you PhDs do not impress me; it is the ability to love.

Photo by Jan Kopřiva on Unsplash

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