(no subject)
bought the new tori amos cd, i like it alot. and damn she is hot.
i'm currently reading the biography of Edna St. Vincent Millay. my favorite poet. i bought her biography, 2 books of her poetry, and a dvd. did i already say this before? i dunno, i can never remember..... any way, she was the first woman to win the pulitzer prize and was the voice of her generation. born feb. 22, 1892, died oct. 19 1950. rest her soul.
in 10th grade i first learned of her and i had her book checked out of the library the whole year lol.
oh well
::::fuck
man work sucked today, we're off thursday, friday, sat, and sunday. maybe i can get some stuff done.
some parts of this poem i wrote 3 or 4 years ago describe how i feel very well.
Unprevented Chaos
Melancholy and madness are allied in my mind.
Maybe there is too much blood congested in my brain.
Melancholy is the engine and the train of madness is not far behind.
I am sad, dejected and dull,
without any apparent cause.
I tremble for fear and am destitute of courage,
I am too fund of being solitude,
I am becoming pale and wan and lazy and weak,
and I lose too much weight,
yet I devour my victuals with greed.
I am in an excessive rage,
when provoked to anger.
I wonder around and make hideous noises,
that act as a reminder.
Then shun the sight of mankind.
I just keep grinding my teeth and never sleep.
Then I constantly weep.
Afterward come the violent headaches.
It is from the long continued uneasiness, sadness, dread, terror and grief.
I crave coldness because it forces my thick blood to my lungs, heart and brain,
which causes oppressive anxieties, sighs and shortness of breath,
also tremors and palpations of my heart,
then in turn causes a sensation of weight in my head,
fierceness of my eyes, long watchings,
and various workings of my thoughts,
intensely fixed upon a single object,
entertaining monstrous things.
No one hears me because my voice is suppressed in my senses.
I fear what tomorrow may bring.
Sounds like love, maybe part of it is,
but love does not make your stomach wince in pain every other day.
You can be afraid of me or hate me if you want,
just do not be afraid of me or hate me because you do not understand.
I will not hate you or any one else,
or ever think bad things of you in my mind.
You did not hear any thing that I just said?
Oh well,
never mind.
thats all i want to say i guess.
i'm currently reading the biography of Edna St. Vincent Millay. my favorite poet. i bought her biography, 2 books of her poetry, and a dvd. did i already say this before? i dunno, i can never remember..... any way, she was the first woman to win the pulitzer prize and was the voice of her generation. born feb. 22, 1892, died oct. 19 1950. rest her soul.
in 10th grade i first learned of her and i had her book checked out of the library the whole year lol.
oh well
::::fuck
man work sucked today, we're off thursday, friday, sat, and sunday. maybe i can get some stuff done.
some parts of this poem i wrote 3 or 4 years ago describe how i feel very well.
Unprevented Chaos
Melancholy and madness are allied in my mind.
Maybe there is too much blood congested in my brain.
Melancholy is the engine and the train of madness is not far behind.
I am sad, dejected and dull,
without any apparent cause.
I tremble for fear and am destitute of courage,
I am too fund of being solitude,
I am becoming pale and wan and lazy and weak,
and I lose too much weight,
yet I devour my victuals with greed.
I am in an excessive rage,
when provoked to anger.
I wonder around and make hideous noises,
that act as a reminder.
Then shun the sight of mankind.
I just keep grinding my teeth and never sleep.
Then I constantly weep.
Afterward come the violent headaches.
It is from the long continued uneasiness, sadness, dread, terror and grief.
I crave coldness because it forces my thick blood to my lungs, heart and brain,
which causes oppressive anxieties, sighs and shortness of breath,
also tremors and palpations of my heart,
then in turn causes a sensation of weight in my head,
fierceness of my eyes, long watchings,
and various workings of my thoughts,
intensely fixed upon a single object,
entertaining monstrous things.
No one hears me because my voice is suppressed in my senses.
I fear what tomorrow may bring.
Sounds like love, maybe part of it is,
but love does not make your stomach wince in pain every other day.
You can be afraid of me or hate me if you want,
just do not be afraid of me or hate me because you do not understand.
I will not hate you or any one else,
or ever think bad things of you in my mind.
You did not hear any thing that I just said?
Oh well,
never mind.
thats all i want to say i guess.