How To Stand In Neutral
I know it's been a while.
I'm not concerned. I've been keeping track of my days elsewhere.
Currently: very tired and unhappy about the non-thesis in this non-paper that I am non-writing.
It's at times like these when I feel my most mute, my most caught. My spine is betraying me and there seem to be strictly enforced speed limits in my soft little brain. It's at times like these when it's all I can do to keep the muscles in my face still and hope that my panic won't be read out loud, and I over-compensate by generating really ridiculous phrases like "dichotomy of inequity." Christ.
But in other ways, on other days of the week, during different hours than these, I am prone to inexplicable outbursts of laughter. Never fear, dear [long lost] reader. I'm not taking myself, or my situation very seriously these days.
I usually wake up content in my crafted home, in my carved craved space, and I make coffee in an inherited blue black bathrobe. I usually walk down the back alley with some intention, I usually ride my garage sale bike with pleasure, I usually discover all sorts of gifts in unexpected places, like copies of the Encyclopedia Britanica and full moons in broad daylight.
But back to that non-paper...
I'm not concerned. I've been keeping track of my days elsewhere.
Currently: very tired and unhappy about the non-thesis in this non-paper that I am non-writing.
It's at times like these when I feel my most mute, my most caught. My spine is betraying me and there seem to be strictly enforced speed limits in my soft little brain. It's at times like these when it's all I can do to keep the muscles in my face still and hope that my panic won't be read out loud, and I over-compensate by generating really ridiculous phrases like "dichotomy of inequity." Christ.
But in other ways, on other days of the week, during different hours than these, I am prone to inexplicable outbursts of laughter. Never fear, dear [long lost] reader. I'm not taking myself, or my situation very seriously these days.
I usually wake up content in my crafted home, in my carved craved space, and I make coffee in an inherited blue black bathrobe. I usually walk down the back alley with some intention, I usually ride my garage sale bike with pleasure, I usually discover all sorts of gifts in unexpected places, like copies of the Encyclopedia Britanica and full moons in broad daylight.
But back to that non-paper...