Possible fun
I am at my place back in peterborough...still miss T.O sometimes though.
Started my 'cultural studies' class on wednesday. I didnt go on monday and the prof called my house, and said he wouldnt teach the class if i didnt come lol, which is good cause i really enjoyed it. We are reading super good texts....THOREAU....BARTHES...SONTAG....CAMUS...DERRIDA... I am told i am supposed to have fun, even if im not an academic, so I shall.
We watched a film called "the perfect human" by Jorgen Lesh...very intense.
An this is my current stream of thought:
Open sky lips on the ceiling
parallels
A vivid crane shadow
Solid wing spread
An avalanche inside my head
I wonder of the meadows that haunt me
clostrafobic landscapes
I wonder who they speak to-
long grasses weaping.
A stolen metronome
blalnced there
Divides me into prints
I am stuck on the wall of a dream
So much left to be seen
Without your eyes on me and my eyes on you
I wouldnt know what to do
Its the light they posses
Not as bright as blinding
Shallow waters curl at the edge
a drizzle traces my exposed skin
moistening the source of my clotted
screming hymm.
Started my 'cultural studies' class on wednesday. I didnt go on monday and the prof called my house, and said he wouldnt teach the class if i didnt come lol, which is good cause i really enjoyed it. We are reading super good texts....THOREAU....BARTHES...SONTAG....CAMUS...DERRIDA... I am told i am supposed to have fun, even if im not an academic, so I shall.
We watched a film called "the perfect human" by Jorgen Lesh...very intense.
An this is my current stream of thought:
Open sky lips on the ceiling
parallels
A vivid crane shadow
Solid wing spread
An avalanche inside my head
I wonder of the meadows that haunt me
clostrafobic landscapes
I wonder who they speak to-
long grasses weaping.
A stolen metronome
blalnced there
Divides me into prints
I am stuck on the wall of a dream
So much left to be seen
Without your eyes on me and my eyes on you
I wouldnt know what to do
Its the light they posses
Not as bright as blinding
Shallow waters curl at the edge
a drizzle traces my exposed skin
moistening the source of my clotted
screming hymm.