This Is Sounds Dove-Crying Float Monkey Nozzle Pursue
Ssszzzrrrrkkkk is the sound my brain is making right now. I filled my body with a massive dose of caffeine because that stimulant facilitates any efforts I expend in the pursuit of being collegiate. Strangely, it also makes me ecstatically happy in a fashion that doesn't feel artificial. Caffeine sizzles through my veins with narcotic effect; all I can do is firmly grasp the pommel of the saddle of life and hang on.
Lately I've become infatuated with the notion of different headspaces, which is a word that doesn't actually mean much of anything beyond "how I feel." However, if I instead qualify my 'headspace' as necessarily geared towards some action, life becomes a much more exciting proposition. It's like a totally free accessory I can plug in and use at my discretion; the toys of my youth always included other features so it's likely a fit of nostalgia, incorporeally manifested. Also, it's definitely better than the fear I've contracted meningitis, which two people at OSU have had in the last year. All they want to do is share their complete and abject contagious misery!
I wish I knew Latin. Admittedly, I could acquire that pool of knowledge with a book and some time, but my need for it is immediate and transient; the desire, I know, will pass. Instead I'll want a full understanding of Polylectic Reality or a bag full of tacos. I might even crave a full understanding of a bag full of tacos if my brain veers far enough into absolute rejection of attained comprehension. What is it, the philosopher poet asks, to know a chair? To know of a chair? To know of knowing of a chair? Yes. These are important questions equally applicable to bags full of tacos.
OSU's radio station suddenly wins my heart and mind by playing Silversun Pickups' Well Thought Out Twinkles. High fives!
Now I will try to do actual work since my initial caffeine high has dissipated somewhat. Yes.
Lately I've become infatuated with the notion of different headspaces, which is a word that doesn't actually mean much of anything beyond "how I feel." However, if I instead qualify my 'headspace' as necessarily geared towards some action, life becomes a much more exciting proposition. It's like a totally free accessory I can plug in and use at my discretion; the toys of my youth always included other features so it's likely a fit of nostalgia, incorporeally manifested. Also, it's definitely better than the fear I've contracted meningitis, which two people at OSU have had in the last year. All they want to do is share their complete and abject contagious misery!
I wish I knew Latin. Admittedly, I could acquire that pool of knowledge with a book and some time, but my need for it is immediate and transient; the desire, I know, will pass. Instead I'll want a full understanding of Polylectic Reality or a bag full of tacos. I might even crave a full understanding of a bag full of tacos if my brain veers far enough into absolute rejection of attained comprehension. What is it, the philosopher poet asks, to know a chair? To know of a chair? To know of knowing of a chair? Yes. These are important questions equally applicable to bags full of tacos.
OSU's radio station suddenly wins my heart and mind by playing Silversun Pickups' Well Thought Out Twinkles. High fives!
Now I will try to do actual work since my initial caffeine high has dissipated somewhat. Yes.