a compulsion.
life is good.
all is well, with the obvious exception of a few really fucked up overarching themes in my life, and the aftermath of a few really bad things that have happened to me in recent times.
but all in all, life is good. adam and i are doing fine.
(he is the cheese to my macaroni, the ball to my katamari. we live in this weird limbo of electric instability and personal/emotional/ideological fusion. but mostly we just live. together. like bugs in a rug that is my room, wallpapered with an odd smattering of photographs, posters, bulletin boards, tapestries, watercolors and drink stirrers and populated by two little kids playing at being grown ups.)
in other news, despite the binge drinking//borderline(/not so borderline according to one of the school's addiction counselors) alcoholism, i managed to pull all As last term. fuck, i'm a badass.
and that is getting more and more under control, again with the obvious exception of one brilliantly pathetic emotional drunkdial earlier this week.
my biggest issue ahora is a feeling of stagnation; being stuck in one physical location, and essentially putting my nose to the grinder to fulfill my professor's obligations, without any particular emotional/intellectual/creative growth actually occurring. this is compounded by a frustration with what i perceive as the stagnate and ridiculous nature of the party scene, not really only in kalamazoo but i think in college in general.
it is compulsory, necessary, without question that on the weekends (...slash weekdays) we will track down alcohol, drink it in massive quantities, make drunken fools of ourselves, wake up the next day feeling like we're going to die, then do it again the next night. for variety, we'll drop some acid, eat a bag of mushrooms, then run naked across the quad being chased by security. (true story.)
what is this obsession with substance? what happened to the beautiful, tenuous, fragile existence of the sober world? why do we have to pour poison into our bodies to enjoy it all?
in other news, i am still highly hypocrital, because what am i almost certainly doing tonight, despite my frustration with the triviality of it all? going out drinking. thinking about getting some mushrooms.
(although, a side note, i personally classify mushrooms and to some extent pot as less trivial, less idiotic than the $5/cup cheap keg beer pong sticky basement skanky girls drunken hookups bullshit scene i previously mentioned. i think most drugs (in moderation) can be used with minimal overall harm, and it's turning out that i am incapable of moderation with alcohol. as far as pot and mushrooms go, i am much more capable/inclined to their use with a purpose; different thought patterns, self-awareness, spiritual developments, self-medicating for insomnia, decreasing my recent tendency towards severe and crippling panic attacks...)
all in all, it turns out my head as always is filled with more than i thought it was when i sat down to update. much love to the whole world.
have some pretty:
let the lover be disgraceful, crazy,
absentminded. someone sober
will worry about things going badly.
let the lover be.
(rumi)
i like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. this is the night, what it does to you. i had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.
(jack kerouac)
we have embraced
too often
our arms tangled slick with sweat
like the sweat of oil on water
making phosphorescent
the swimmers and their innocent limbs
the glow shows them everywhere
no escape in any dark
rising, pulling back my long sweaty hair
I see a face in the mirror only half mine
what I am thinking is only half mine
these words are only half mine
the frayed threads of our bodies want
only that tangling again
that old growing together again
a completion like the exhaling
of a single breath
(joyce carol oates)
i know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of stars makes me dream.
(vincent van gogh)
all is well, with the obvious exception of a few really fucked up overarching themes in my life, and the aftermath of a few really bad things that have happened to me in recent times.
but all in all, life is good. adam and i are doing fine.
(he is the cheese to my macaroni, the ball to my katamari. we live in this weird limbo of electric instability and personal/emotional/ideological fusion. but mostly we just live. together. like bugs in a rug that is my room, wallpapered with an odd smattering of photographs, posters, bulletin boards, tapestries, watercolors and drink stirrers and populated by two little kids playing at being grown ups.)
in other news, despite the binge drinking//borderline(/not so borderline according to one of the school's addiction counselors) alcoholism, i managed to pull all As last term. fuck, i'm a badass.
and that is getting more and more under control, again with the obvious exception of one brilliantly pathetic emotional drunkdial earlier this week.
my biggest issue ahora is a feeling of stagnation; being stuck in one physical location, and essentially putting my nose to the grinder to fulfill my professor's obligations, without any particular emotional/intellectual/creative growth actually occurring. this is compounded by a frustration with what i perceive as the stagnate and ridiculous nature of the party scene, not really only in kalamazoo but i think in college in general.
it is compulsory, necessary, without question that on the weekends (...slash weekdays) we will track down alcohol, drink it in massive quantities, make drunken fools of ourselves, wake up the next day feeling like we're going to die, then do it again the next night. for variety, we'll drop some acid, eat a bag of mushrooms, then run naked across the quad being chased by security. (true story.)
what is this obsession with substance? what happened to the beautiful, tenuous, fragile existence of the sober world? why do we have to pour poison into our bodies to enjoy it all?
in other news, i am still highly hypocrital, because what am i almost certainly doing tonight, despite my frustration with the triviality of it all? going out drinking. thinking about getting some mushrooms.
(although, a side note, i personally classify mushrooms and to some extent pot as less trivial, less idiotic than the $5/cup cheap keg beer pong sticky basement skanky girls drunken hookups bullshit scene i previously mentioned. i think most drugs (in moderation) can be used with minimal overall harm, and it's turning out that i am incapable of moderation with alcohol. as far as pot and mushrooms go, i am much more capable/inclined to their use with a purpose; different thought patterns, self-awareness, spiritual developments, self-medicating for insomnia, decreasing my recent tendency towards severe and crippling panic attacks...)
all in all, it turns out my head as always is filled with more than i thought it was when i sat down to update. much love to the whole world.
have some pretty:
let the lover be disgraceful, crazy,
absentminded. someone sober
will worry about things going badly.
let the lover be.
(rumi)
i like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till i drop. this is the night, what it does to you. i had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.
(jack kerouac)
we have embraced
too often
our arms tangled slick with sweat
like the sweat of oil on water
making phosphorescent
the swimmers and their innocent limbs
the glow shows them everywhere
no escape in any dark
rising, pulling back my long sweaty hair
I see a face in the mirror only half mine
what I am thinking is only half mine
these words are only half mine
the frayed threads of our bodies want
only that tangling again
that old growing together again
a completion like the exhaling
of a single breath
(joyce carol oates)
i know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of stars makes me dream.
(vincent van gogh)