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"I did that," says my memory. "I could not have done that," says my pride, and remains inexorable. Eventually--the memory yields.- Nietzsche
I love Nietzsche. He's swell. I'm thinking about using that as a senior quote.
Today's Challenge: Find some thing I've written that is "appropriate" to read at a Writing recital.
Statement made by me that people for some reason found funny: "Can we please define the boundaries of propriety?"--I was serious. I still am. She responded with acceptable for general audiences. Is she really going to let me judge for myself what is acceptable for all audiences? Boys and Girls: The Pornography Story.
I found a fairly clean poem with only one semi-ambiguous (aka almost blatant) reference to sex. But it was merely my satirical response to Walt Whitman's Song of Myself. I named it Cacaphony.
Have you heard the Snow Patrol song "Hands Open" where it talks about Sufjan Stevens and the song Chicago? Yeah.
I cut my finger at 3:30 and blood is still gushing out of there. Coagulate, dammit!