on autumn
I've forgotten about this thing for a while.
My heat is on with the windows open - my room has the most wonderful cross breeze and lofted ceiling this year. It's cozy.
I am trying to write a paper on biopolitics and the deployment of sexuality via Foucault, but it is tiresome. My thoughts are leaking out of my ears along with what I'd like to think of as my conscious sanity. I have been working hard and playing hard. Whiskey and apple cider and social theory and alternative process printing. I couldn't sleep last night because I was thinking about the implications of post-structuarlist theory. Doesn't this all sound so pretentious? It's absolutely mind boggling.
Tomorrow is Halloween. I will be dressing up as zombie Amelia Earhart. If I can get through this paper tonight and finish up some reading, I know this weekend will be fantastic. It's just a matter of getting there.
Things are generally good. Late night snuggles with that cross-breeze and Massachusetts autumn air. I like it.