Impulsively Desire
Can't sleep.
Snakes and Ghosts slither and haunt my dreams tonight.
I don't understand; I don't really care.
Tomorrow should be fun, I've been putting a good deal of work into Haemon (from Antigone) for class. Things were so much easier when I thought of him as an impulsive buffoon. He's deep. Far deeper than I would have suspected, and indeed other characters in the play (with the exception of Antigone of course). Hopefully I'll have the chance to work with him tomorrow in class.
Anitgone has a dog, named Puff. He visits Haemon often. Dogs are smart like that. Puff sits on my window sill next to my bed. I have to keep telling myself it is just a stuffed animal. When I play with him it is I who is moving him. The small licks on my face are imaginary.
Sometimes, I hate mirrors. Not like other people sometimes hate mirrors. Other people...normal people...hate mirrors because something will be reflected back to them they wish to not think about, such as excess weight. Me? I love what is reflected back at me. Even when I hate it, I love it. But I have to keep telling myself that the person in the mirror isn't real. Somtimes, glass is colder than it is outside.
This weekend was Long Weekend. A break. A restfull time. I tried to rest. I did rest. I was anxious. I am anxious. Fall Term '05, part Two is coming. Hell, it is here. I can feel the tempos quickening. Intensity is building. Tension is rising. Everything as it ought to be in a good play. I can't wait. I'm intregued as to what is to be. I need to know. All I can do is ride the wave. Either that or sit back and wait. Either, or.
Time is running out for everything. What am I doing on the computer? I should be sleeping or actively doing something. Not sitting here waiting for enought time to slip by before I arbitrarily decide it is time to try sleeping again. I should sleep when I pass out. Hmmm...that could take upwards of a week though. My muscles would tear and my bones would splinter before I would pass out. Potentially the prior statement stands.
I long for a hot dog. Or a grapefruit. And by "long" I mean impulsively desire.
Snakes and Ghosts slither and haunt my dreams tonight.
I don't understand; I don't really care.
Tomorrow should be fun, I've been putting a good deal of work into Haemon (from Antigone) for class. Things were so much easier when I thought of him as an impulsive buffoon. He's deep. Far deeper than I would have suspected, and indeed other characters in the play (with the exception of Antigone of course). Hopefully I'll have the chance to work with him tomorrow in class.
Anitgone has a dog, named Puff. He visits Haemon often. Dogs are smart like that. Puff sits on my window sill next to my bed. I have to keep telling myself it is just a stuffed animal. When I play with him it is I who is moving him. The small licks on my face are imaginary.
Sometimes, I hate mirrors. Not like other people sometimes hate mirrors. Other people...normal people...hate mirrors because something will be reflected back to them they wish to not think about, such as excess weight. Me? I love what is reflected back at me. Even when I hate it, I love it. But I have to keep telling myself that the person in the mirror isn't real. Somtimes, glass is colder than it is outside.
This weekend was Long Weekend. A break. A restfull time. I tried to rest. I did rest. I was anxious. I am anxious. Fall Term '05, part Two is coming. Hell, it is here. I can feel the tempos quickening. Intensity is building. Tension is rising. Everything as it ought to be in a good play. I can't wait. I'm intregued as to what is to be. I need to know. All I can do is ride the wave. Either that or sit back and wait. Either, or.
Time is running out for everything. What am I doing on the computer? I should be sleeping or actively doing something. Not sitting here waiting for enought time to slip by before I arbitrarily decide it is time to try sleeping again. I should sleep when I pass out. Hmmm...that could take upwards of a week though. My muscles would tear and my bones would splinter before I would pass out. Potentially the prior statement stands.
I long for a hot dog. Or a grapefruit. And by "long" I mean impulsively desire.