oh. i'm so hungry. i was tempted to type this all with my fingers one to the left. kujw rgua, whoever thought of phrases like 'heart-rending' ate enough strawberries in the morning to think of them [the phrases or the strawberries?] later that night. once again i can't get enough of: the gleam of the computer monitor, the glow of the parking garage lights, the canny silhouette of the door outlined. adam smith paper woefully unwrought as of yet. i've been kicking through his contradictions but he's such an unworthy target. being dead and also older than me. :^) i haven't stayed up this late since i've been here, clearly my priorities and my heart are in the right place. oh i'd die for the theory of moral sentiment/wealth of nations!
other than the academic martyrdom (teehee) - feeling very ineffectual as usual. underdone and underdoing, obviously. floating in lychee? the ultimate. someone's going to slurp me up soon! and now a nice long sentence, an ink polaroid, something for posterity: oh forget it. no. what do i really feel like? no metaphors, now. i am the cumulative experience of everything i've ever heard. and by heard i mean everything. the east-west dichotomy of breath, listening, hearing, soul? yeah. so hearing in that sense. and a laggard's sense to boot. always too late with my apologies, my self-redemptions, my revelatory stance. still needing to project the whole of my consciousness (check!) on the world. remembering like 24/7 f. scott fitzgerald and his supreme understanding of girlie things. if you look good you can chill for the rest of your life or at least the evening kind of thing. still alive. still awake! still unaware of overwrought (my new favorite olde english word, maybe?) language, and needing desperately to be damagingly self-reverential this late at night. but my back's in line. i'm back in line. there. i mean, please. i'm going to be up in a little while. i love any songs/pieces with birds in the background.
other than the academic martyrdom (teehee) - feeling very ineffectual as usual. underdone and underdoing, obviously. floating in lychee? the ultimate. someone's going to slurp me up soon! and now a nice long sentence, an ink polaroid, something for posterity: oh forget it. no. what do i really feel like? no metaphors, now. i am the cumulative experience of everything i've ever heard. and by heard i mean everything. the east-west dichotomy of breath, listening, hearing, soul? yeah. so hearing in that sense. and a laggard's sense to boot. always too late with my apologies, my self-redemptions, my revelatory stance. still needing to project the whole of my consciousness (check!) on the world. remembering like 24/7 f. scott fitzgerald and his supreme understanding of girlie things. if you look good you can chill for the rest of your life or at least the evening kind of thing. still alive. still awake! still unaware of overwrought (my new favorite olde english word, maybe?) language, and needing desperately to be damagingly self-reverential this late at night. but my back's in line. i'm back in line. there. i mean, please. i'm going to be up in a little while. i love any songs/pieces with birds in the background.