It's not what it seems
I would like to say there was a night on which everything ended, after which, there are no more words.
Sometimes, I am shocked by the contiuation of life and events and the passage of time when it couldn't be clearer to the world that everything should have ceased. I vascillate between a nervous and productive energy and feeling strangely stopped. There is no past. I try to know who I am.
On other notes: life this semester at wilson. It's different every time. This time will be the best. I think. Right now I'm sitting at my roommates desk, using her computer because we only have wireless in this dorm which my computer doesn't like, looking out of one of four tall windows in our large room at the snow. It's also the prime spot for spying on people as they walk through Schafer back and forth across campus. It's perfect. I live in a suite with seven other people downstairs in Schafer C- one of the three 'party dorms' making up Schafer circle. When we moved in it had previously been the 'farm boys' suite' and was a complete shithole. Other than old beer, it smelled like gasoline because there were containers of it sitting around, and chainsaws, and wood carvings. Cleaning was a process.
We've pretty much settled in now, and it looks nice. We have a large common room with two couches and two chairs and big windows and a table and curtains. Our own bathrooms and showers, etc. My roommate, Amy, is wonderful, completely low maintenance and low drama. I live with three other girlfriends of mine, two boyfriends, and one gay boyfriend.
Since we've moved in, I definitely have been partying more. Which probably has more to do with me and less to do with dorm, but I'm enjoying it. We had dance parties this weekend. I got down. Made some new friends. Got closer with some old ones. I found my downfall to be mixing rum with sparks (orange soda-esque energy beer). I lost my glasses. Amy put a needle through my ear, then we realized that it didn't make a wide enough hole for the earring, so she pulled it out. A painful and fruitless venture. I have the urge to pierce something.
Classes are going really well. French I is easy. I love my poetry class, mostly for the people in it. Every poet kid on campus, basically, and our interactions are...interesting. Chaucer is a handful, I didn't realize I was going to be reading in old english. Here is a line from our enormous book: "Defaute of slep and hevynesse / Hath sleyn my spirit of quyknesse / That I have lost al lustyhede." Yeah. Thousands of pages of it. My head hurts.
I have a million pictures, I'll put them up soon. Time for sunday afternoon nap.
Sometimes, I am shocked by the contiuation of life and events and the passage of time when it couldn't be clearer to the world that everything should have ceased. I vascillate between a nervous and productive energy and feeling strangely stopped. There is no past. I try to know who I am.
On other notes: life this semester at wilson. It's different every time. This time will be the best. I think. Right now I'm sitting at my roommates desk, using her computer because we only have wireless in this dorm which my computer doesn't like, looking out of one of four tall windows in our large room at the snow. It's also the prime spot for spying on people as they walk through Schafer back and forth across campus. It's perfect. I live in a suite with seven other people downstairs in Schafer C- one of the three 'party dorms' making up Schafer circle. When we moved in it had previously been the 'farm boys' suite' and was a complete shithole. Other than old beer, it smelled like gasoline because there were containers of it sitting around, and chainsaws, and wood carvings. Cleaning was a process.
We've pretty much settled in now, and it looks nice. We have a large common room with two couches and two chairs and big windows and a table and curtains. Our own bathrooms and showers, etc. My roommate, Amy, is wonderful, completely low maintenance and low drama. I live with three other girlfriends of mine, two boyfriends, and one gay boyfriend.
Since we've moved in, I definitely have been partying more. Which probably has more to do with me and less to do with dorm, but I'm enjoying it. We had dance parties this weekend. I got down. Made some new friends. Got closer with some old ones. I found my downfall to be mixing rum with sparks (orange soda-esque energy beer). I lost my glasses. Amy put a needle through my ear, then we realized that it didn't make a wide enough hole for the earring, so she pulled it out. A painful and fruitless venture. I have the urge to pierce something.
Classes are going really well. French I is easy. I love my poetry class, mostly for the people in it. Every poet kid on campus, basically, and our interactions are...interesting. Chaucer is a handful, I didn't realize I was going to be reading in old english. Here is a line from our enormous book: "Defaute of slep and hevynesse / Hath sleyn my spirit of quyknesse / That I have lost al lustyhede." Yeah. Thousands of pages of it. My head hurts.
I have a million pictures, I'll put them up soon. Time for sunday afternoon nap.