"On the errands of life, these letters speed to death"
I've been using the quote in the subject line quite often...it's actually from "Bartleby" by Melville--definitely worth the quick read.
Even though my schoolwork is less than stellar this semester, I've had such a kickass time. Compared to the mental anxiety of freshmen year spring semester, this is absolutely great--I feel like a completely new person. The crazies come and go, but the bottom line is that life is amazing. Oh, and I got some kickass Christmas presents for close friends/family this year. I got my sister and my mom *really* nice strands of black pearls (and I bought one for myself, too...*cough* It's a Murphy women thing?), as well as "Ariel" for the former and "Madeline is Sleepign" for the latter. My dad is getting the DVD "Unbreakable" (his favorite superhero film), a set of crescent wrenches, and "The Little Prince." Dean is getting...a lightsaber. TEHE. It's a Master Replica one, too--the REALLY nice ones with the metal hilt and everything. I don't feel bad putting this up here on the internet because he *never* uses livejournal anymore. Oh, and it's an Anakin Skywalker one--bright blue.
My job blows. My art project blows. I need to get a 57% on my math exam in order to pass, and somehow, that is still a daunting task. My English paper may very well have sucked, but it might have been a B+ paper, too. My astronomy exam is almost guaranteed to kick my ass. I don't have that much money. I don't know how I'm getting home. I don't want Andrea to go away to Spain and leave us two fools (Kirsten and myself) alone to wallow in our colorful filth.
But you know, I still enjoy myself immensely. ^_______^
**random poem written about how i love to circle amusing/brilliant phrases from Nabokov novels**
APPRECIATION
the pages that i claim
lay in riddles--
wide, red marks that
swallow words whole--
encompassing, thick, and
heavy with intention.
black prints once sped from
behind the gray brow
through the lined mind--
brilliant and acute--
to the queue at his fingertips.
one word
followed by another--
a single phrase argued
again and again,
with fantastic vowels and consenants.
my pen finds it way across
these foreign scapes,
ink taming each impossible event.
they are roped in tightly
and held in round red cages
meant to separate the
bright from the burning.
Even though my schoolwork is less than stellar this semester, I've had such a kickass time. Compared to the mental anxiety of freshmen year spring semester, this is absolutely great--I feel like a completely new person. The crazies come and go, but the bottom line is that life is amazing. Oh, and I got some kickass Christmas presents for close friends/family this year. I got my sister and my mom *really* nice strands of black pearls (and I bought one for myself, too...*cough* It's a Murphy women thing?), as well as "Ariel" for the former and "Madeline is Sleepign" for the latter. My dad is getting the DVD "Unbreakable" (his favorite superhero film), a set of crescent wrenches, and "The Little Prince." Dean is getting...a lightsaber. TEHE. It's a Master Replica one, too--the REALLY nice ones with the metal hilt and everything. I don't feel bad putting this up here on the internet because he *never* uses livejournal anymore. Oh, and it's an Anakin Skywalker one--bright blue.
My job blows. My art project blows. I need to get a 57% on my math exam in order to pass, and somehow, that is still a daunting task. My English paper may very well have sucked, but it might have been a B+ paper, too. My astronomy exam is almost guaranteed to kick my ass. I don't have that much money. I don't know how I'm getting home. I don't want Andrea to go away to Spain and leave us two fools (Kirsten and myself) alone to wallow in our colorful filth.
But you know, I still enjoy myself immensely. ^_______^
**random poem written about how i love to circle amusing/brilliant phrases from Nabokov novels**
APPRECIATION
the pages that i claim
lay in riddles--
wide, red marks that
swallow words whole--
encompassing, thick, and
heavy with intention.
black prints once sped from
behind the gray brow
through the lined mind--
brilliant and acute--
to the queue at his fingertips.
one word
followed by another--
a single phrase argued
again and again,
with fantastic vowels and consenants.
my pen finds it way across
these foreign scapes,
ink taming each impossible event.
they are roped in tightly
and held in round red cages
meant to separate the
bright from the burning.