(no subject)
sitting here at this late hour typing a paper
and i can not help but wonder
if i am sharing some kind of cerebral connection
with everyone else who is up late and writing their hearts out,
be it literature, psychology, or the popular culture of japan.
it's almost as if we are sending out signals to each other
as our dark faces reflect the glows of our white screens.
a comforting warmth through a
medium that is mostly stark and cold.
(or maybe i am just beyond tired)
it seems i will forever be the bastard child of procrastination.
and i can not help but wonder
if i am sharing some kind of cerebral connection
with everyone else who is up late and writing their hearts out,
be it literature, psychology, or the popular culture of japan.
it's almost as if we are sending out signals to each other
as our dark faces reflect the glows of our white screens.
a comforting warmth through a
medium that is mostly stark and cold.
(or maybe i am just beyond tired)
it seems i will forever be the bastard child of procrastination.