and that's why they call it jum-bone!
remind me to share my william blake response paper with you. it's silly and crazy and i am in love with it for no reason at all. tra la!
i meant earlier last week to talk about our study party and speech and the english unit exam (oh misery, oh death) and then yesterday (i mean SATURDAY) the speech tournament but it just hasn't happened, and i am so far behind with nanowrimo, but all is well, i may pull a late-nighter with writing tonight even though i have to get up in the morning and go sit gaping like a codfish through utter dissection of blake's poetry by one crazylovin' blake fan, aka monsieur guillaums. oh heavens, i am nonsensical. i felt the need to keep reiterating that in my reponse paper because i am, i really am. like so:
I’m the crazy kid on the bus reading the book for the third time, not to extract meaning but because I just can’t put it down. Like Amadeus (my last journal that went this long, oh dear), I am not even faintly disappointed in finally experiencing this long-awaited literary… experience. Really. I know I’ve babbled incessantly and nonsensically but I don’t know what else to do ... I’m always that weird girl swooning over books and being all vague and funny about things, “Oh it’s just so like that, like I don’t know what but it’s so lo-ve-ly, I am ambiguously bookwormish like a crazy granola girl!”
seriously, who writes this crap? oh yes. me.
ha.
i'd write more but my mother has to get on and write a paper herself, though i doubt it will contain as many ridiculous metaphors as mine did. adiós!
i meant earlier last week to talk about our study party and speech and the english unit exam (oh misery, oh death) and then yesterday (i mean SATURDAY) the speech tournament but it just hasn't happened, and i am so far behind with nanowrimo, but all is well, i may pull a late-nighter with writing tonight even though i have to get up in the morning and go sit gaping like a codfish through utter dissection of blake's poetry by one crazylovin' blake fan, aka monsieur guillaums. oh heavens, i am nonsensical. i felt the need to keep reiterating that in my reponse paper because i am, i really am. like so:
I’m the crazy kid on the bus reading the book for the third time, not to extract meaning but because I just can’t put it down. Like Amadeus (my last journal that went this long, oh dear), I am not even faintly disappointed in finally experiencing this long-awaited literary… experience. Really. I know I’ve babbled incessantly and nonsensically but I don’t know what else to do ... I’m always that weird girl swooning over books and being all vague and funny about things, “Oh it’s just so like that, like I don’t know what but it’s so lo-ve-ly, I am ambiguously bookwormish like a crazy granola girl!”
seriously, who writes this crap? oh yes. me.
ha.
i'd write more but my mother has to get on and write a paper herself, though i doubt it will contain as many ridiculous metaphors as mine did. adiós!