There's just nothing here.
I don't want to spend my entire life filling books with directions and job possibilities. This room is nice, a little bare at best, but I have a feeling I will be too familiar with it by the end of the summer. I have a feeling I am going to fail at spending a lot of time being quiet, it's just not something I'm very good at. I mistake it for being lonely. My mind is clear, my body is fat; I feel ripe and ready to be plucked. I'll leap off a bus through the window, landing in the white car stalled at the red light - "Drive me home or I will bleed all over this audi"...
The audi should probably be capitalized, but I'm living with anarchists now - too much emphasis on capital would be tactless and makes for unpleasant living conditions.
I feel as though I have nothing to offer the world of academia but plenty of artistic commentary.
I think the bottom line of this sucker would be the following:
Why don't I read more?
The audi should probably be capitalized, but I'm living with anarchists now - too much emphasis on capital would be tactless and makes for unpleasant living conditions.
I feel as though I have nothing to offer the world of academia but plenty of artistic commentary.
I think the bottom line of this sucker would be the following:
Why don't I read more?