shocked my brain can process anything besides materiality and language and postmodern & bfabfuabfaui
a girl behind me in the library just now said "yeah campus roads are bad but once you get on sides streets and stuff its fine."
and i was all, huh? and i walked over to the window and found that the perfect dusting of snow had fallen while i had been typin'/stressin'/procrastinatin'/anxiously-questionin'-the-whole-point-of-my-seminar-paper away
and because im at that barely a real person point of the truly sleep deprived nitty gritty of it all, i stood there transfixed and put my hand up to the glass in some sort of melodramatic moment that belonged in a movie or at an aquarium.
i get mad, yo, having to hit "ignore all" all the damn time when spell check slaps delillo and foer with a red squiggly. stop spreading incorrectness all over my paper, word! those fools are more legit than you will ever be. mr. paper clip, i am most certainly speaking to you.
since ive made this my home/prison for the past several days (you could call it a month and i might actually believe you), ive walked back and forth several times past a book called "hip hop speaks to children: a celebration of poetry with a beat!"
i will get this finished.
i will drive my classmates over the walkill and throooough the wood's to mary holland's house we go! i will hope to present this godforsaken thing close to first so my nerves and inability to refuse a second or third glass of wine don't get the best of me.
i will then write a silly short critical piece for jan, possibly, ACtually, in my sleep. i will somehow fit in two more workouts.
i will eat her bagels and cream cheese and share words with the class.
i will be done.
i will make it home.
HOME.
home!
and i was all, huh? and i walked over to the window and found that the perfect dusting of snow had fallen while i had been typin'/stressin'/procrastinatin'/anxiously-questionin'-the-whole-point-of-my-seminar-paper away
and because im at that barely a real person point of the truly sleep deprived nitty gritty of it all, i stood there transfixed and put my hand up to the glass in some sort of melodramatic moment that belonged in a movie or at an aquarium.
i get mad, yo, having to hit "ignore all" all the damn time when spell check slaps delillo and foer with a red squiggly. stop spreading incorrectness all over my paper, word! those fools are more legit than you will ever be. mr. paper clip, i am most certainly speaking to you.
since ive made this my home/prison for the past several days (you could call it a month and i might actually believe you), ive walked back and forth several times past a book called "hip hop speaks to children: a celebration of poetry with a beat!"
i will get this finished.
i will drive my classmates over the walkill and throooough the wood's to mary holland's house we go! i will hope to present this godforsaken thing close to first so my nerves and inability to refuse a second or third glass of wine don't get the best of me.
i will then write a silly short critical piece for jan, possibly, ACtually, in my sleep. i will somehow fit in two more workouts.
i will eat her bagels and cream cheese and share words with the class.
i will be done.
i will make it home.
HOME.
home!