7/22 in my quest to reunify korea using only erudition and spartan pride
oui je t'aime-
et tout ceci
t'as jamais su
tout ce que j'ai dit
that's both terrible and minimally impossible, i know :^) just trying to rime and croisee and syllable. my reputation here for niceness. especially as i can't be bothered to be as terrible to people as i am remembering i can be and have been. [yet. i. hope.] plus the kc310 open door policy; "the perfect hostess" - in her sense. the wide berth of weirdness i grant to people, in deference to myself, inevitably makes me seem weird to a wide...berth. mm, recognizing myself in others, recognizing others in myself, feeling lazy and regretful about both.
have i started to sing more now that i don't play at all? more louder beautiful music in my head, so quiet humming and bopping around when i fill my glass at dinnertime. the lofty inimitable acoustics of hallways and stairways. sonique world. cocoa cafe. pavlovian response of our times is the baja men. the fundamental brightness of the yun family women (one park, one legit yun) in voice and glance but so very rarely in deed. we are so heartrent so suddenly. giddy like schoolgirls graceless hostesses. "plein d'espoir". and paranoia. veronica just brought over a tape of brahms piano trio (and it WORKED thank god in my ailing denon) and we are going to take over the world with our emo(ting!) how many nights have i not talked to anand online?
* * *dude! this needs outing. i mean...can i really afford to nod/smile/bite lip/talk nonsense/giggle into relative oblivion? into a cesspool of cute mute solitude? 2.5/3 people 2/2 past months.
if you think you know what i'm talking about, then you definitely do.
if you definitely know what i'm talking about, then it probably doesn't apply.
i know i understand it and i know i can't stop it any time soon. blauuuuu
oui je t'aime-
et tout ceci
t'as jamais su
tout ce que j'ai dit
that's both terrible and minimally impossible, i know :^) just trying to rime and croisee and syllable. my reputation here for niceness. especially as i can't be bothered to be as terrible to people as i am remembering i can be and have been. [yet. i. hope.] plus the kc310 open door policy; "the perfect hostess" - in her sense. the wide berth of weirdness i grant to people, in deference to myself, inevitably makes me seem weird to a wide...berth. mm, recognizing myself in others, recognizing others in myself, feeling lazy and regretful about both.
have i started to sing more now that i don't play at all? more louder beautiful music in my head, so quiet humming and bopping around when i fill my glass at dinnertime. the lofty inimitable acoustics of hallways and stairways. sonique world. cocoa cafe. pavlovian response of our times is the baja men. the fundamental brightness of the yun family women (one park, one legit yun) in voice and glance but so very rarely in deed. we are so heartrent so suddenly. giddy like schoolgirls graceless hostesses. "plein d'espoir". and paranoia. veronica just brought over a tape of brahms piano trio (and it WORKED thank god in my ailing denon) and we are going to take over the world with our emo(ting!) how many nights have i not talked to anand online?
* * *dude! this needs outing. i mean...can i really afford to nod/smile/bite lip/talk nonsense/giggle into relative oblivion? into a cesspool of cute mute solitude? 2.5/3 people 2/2 past months.
if you think you know what i'm talking about, then you definitely do.
if you definitely know what i'm talking about, then it probably doesn't apply.
i know i understand it and i know i can't stop it any time soon. blauuuuu