(no subject)
My illness wanes. So long as my throat gives me no grief, I'll not complain.
Some phrases I hold in all my thoughts like old flowers. Elusive remembrances, while those physical hover at my shoulders like spies or angels. I would not begrudge their company.
1) When I was a kid, after school I: read books or watched cartoons.
2) This one time when I was high: I drank tea and rode in the back of a car with blankets and old clothes and felt as if, minus the pain and emotional anguish, I was being brought home from undergoing an abortion.
3) The New Pope: doesn't like very many people.
4) I fall asleep easily: unless I vividly fear insomnia.
5) I need more: ideas.
6) I need less: worry.
7) Public toilets are useful for: going to the toilet in public.
8) The United States should change its name to: The United States of something more specific.
9) My theme song would be: something beyond my current comprehension.
10) Sometimes I think people: well-intentioned. Sometimes I don't.
11) Prescription drugs are: overpriced.
12) I think about sex when: my body and thoughts align.
13) The middle finger is most useful: for making the overall shape of my hand look nice.
14) The last time I bought a pair of shoes: was several months ago when I bought my Birkenstock clogs.
15) In one month: I think I will be out of town.
16) For the last time: intellect does not equal having a penis.
17) The last thing I stole: is absent from my memory.
18) If I won the lotto, the first thing I would buy: would be a house.
9) When in Rome: try not to fall into a stereotype.
20) If only I could get rid of: insensitivity.
21) Your mom: loves you, I hope.
22) When I'm on death row, my last meal will be: unknown. When? I don't think I'd be able to eat.
23) The last person who talked to me: was my mother.
24) I mostly use the internet: to check my mail and look things up.
25) When I'm President: we'll be looking at a very different economic system.
26) I most resemble: my mother, I suppose. I don't know that I terribly resemble anybody.
27) The word I say too much is: I.
28) Vegas is great for: absolving yourself of moronic behavior.
29) Michael Jackson: doesn't deserve my attention.
30) The Speed Limit means: something to be obeyed only in the presence of the law.
31) When I die, I want my body: to be buried in a sheet.
32) If I could go back in time, I would: have whispered better suggestions into the ears of influential people.
33) The last time I said "this sucks," I: was bored with whatever I was doing.
34) You obviously know me well when: I am willing to discuss people and events to whom or to which I am most profoundly sensitive.
35) Tomorrow I will: go to school.
36) I spend too much time: in self-obsession.
37) The last thing I broke: was the wrapper to a package of cookies.
I write some small, significant amount. I finally got around to reading Black Sun, the collected poetry of Lewis Thompson, a gift some weeks ago from Evan. Beautiful, intricate poems with great precision and mysticism. I also read Metropolis, by Elizabeth Gaffney, which was thoroughly engaging to read.
Today, my English class attending a poetry lecture. The person sitting next to me, a boy in my class, prompted a very small ant to crawl onto his opened notebook. As she crept around, he wrote notes and comments to her on her movements. Musings on the life of an ant, and I was unable, unfortunately, to read them all.
The school year draws to a nearing close. I begin to notice those with whom I regret never forming relationship. And yet how could I have gone about it, had I known earlier I would admire these individuals? I can only trust in chance to bring me close to others; I am incapable of efforts more certain.
I look forward to what will come, come what may.
Some phrases I hold in all my thoughts like old flowers. Elusive remembrances, while those physical hover at my shoulders like spies or angels. I would not begrudge their company.
1) When I was a kid, after school I: read books or watched cartoons.
2) This one time when I was high: I drank tea and rode in the back of a car with blankets and old clothes and felt as if, minus the pain and emotional anguish, I was being brought home from undergoing an abortion.
3) The New Pope: doesn't like very many people.
4) I fall asleep easily: unless I vividly fear insomnia.
5) I need more: ideas.
6) I need less: worry.
7) Public toilets are useful for: going to the toilet in public.
8) The United States should change its name to: The United States of something more specific.
9) My theme song would be: something beyond my current comprehension.
10) Sometimes I think people: well-intentioned. Sometimes I don't.
11) Prescription drugs are: overpriced.
12) I think about sex when: my body and thoughts align.
13) The middle finger is most useful: for making the overall shape of my hand look nice.
14) The last time I bought a pair of shoes: was several months ago when I bought my Birkenstock clogs.
15) In one month: I think I will be out of town.
16) For the last time: intellect does not equal having a penis.
17) The last thing I stole: is absent from my memory.
18) If I won the lotto, the first thing I would buy: would be a house.
9) When in Rome: try not to fall into a stereotype.
20) If only I could get rid of: insensitivity.
21) Your mom: loves you, I hope.
22) When I'm on death row, my last meal will be: unknown. When? I don't think I'd be able to eat.
23) The last person who talked to me: was my mother.
24) I mostly use the internet: to check my mail and look things up.
25) When I'm President: we'll be looking at a very different economic system.
26) I most resemble: my mother, I suppose. I don't know that I terribly resemble anybody.
27) The word I say too much is: I.
28) Vegas is great for: absolving yourself of moronic behavior.
29) Michael Jackson: doesn't deserve my attention.
30) The Speed Limit means: something to be obeyed only in the presence of the law.
31) When I die, I want my body: to be buried in a sheet.
32) If I could go back in time, I would: have whispered better suggestions into the ears of influential people.
33) The last time I said "this sucks," I: was bored with whatever I was doing.
34) You obviously know me well when: I am willing to discuss people and events to whom or to which I am most profoundly sensitive.
35) Tomorrow I will: go to school.
36) I spend too much time: in self-obsession.
37) The last thing I broke: was the wrapper to a package of cookies.
I write some small, significant amount. I finally got around to reading Black Sun, the collected poetry of Lewis Thompson, a gift some weeks ago from Evan. Beautiful, intricate poems with great precision and mysticism. I also read Metropolis, by Elizabeth Gaffney, which was thoroughly engaging to read.
Today, my English class attending a poetry lecture. The person sitting next to me, a boy in my class, prompted a very small ant to crawl onto his opened notebook. As she crept around, he wrote notes and comments to her on her movements. Musings on the life of an ant, and I was unable, unfortunately, to read them all.
The school year draws to a nearing close. I begin to notice those with whom I regret never forming relationship. And yet how could I have gone about it, had I known earlier I would admire these individuals? I can only trust in chance to bring me close to others; I am incapable of efforts more certain.
I look forward to what will come, come what may.