With your fingers you can touch me.
Okay, it is one in the morning and I am hungry, but I should not eat. I eat way too much all of the time. Well, no, I am going to go eat. Maybe I'll jog one day. No, when I am no longer a size one, I will jog. No, I can even be a size three, that's still alright. Yeah. I welcome lethargy with open arms.
Anyway, do you know what the first University of Chicago essay option is? The following:
"Don't play what's there, play what's not there." --Miles Davis
I am hoping this is some kind of good sign. It combines all sorts of positive things: music and the truth therein, feelin' it right down to your toes, and Miles frigging Davis. I am going to pour my heart out, and they will reject me, but I do not care. Again, lethargy--basically physical apathy plus the regular kind of apathy.
What else? Today I participated in a jam session that sounded like Sufjan Stevens on a drug trip. Instruments: guitar, drums, bass, trumpet, clarinet provided by Beka, tenor sax provided by Jessi, and myself on my violin with a shiny new electric pickup. Oh, it was glorious. That is what heaven is going to be like--a whole lot of sounds happening at once and somehow fitting together. And then we played Tetris and the Matts smoked fruit punch-flavored tobacco and we were all seriously grossed out by old Penthouses and Playboys. Just another nuit typique, comme toujours.
I am, for once, not going to even discuss how most things are not so great right now and that I could really use some structure and people and little things like expensive coffee or screen printing t-shirts or spray painting or dancing or something to keep my mind going. No way no how.
Hope life is going swimmingly, literally.
Anyway, do you know what the first University of Chicago essay option is? The following:
"Don't play what's there, play what's not there." --Miles Davis
I am hoping this is some kind of good sign. It combines all sorts of positive things: music and the truth therein, feelin' it right down to your toes, and Miles frigging Davis. I am going to pour my heart out, and they will reject me, but I do not care. Again, lethargy--basically physical apathy plus the regular kind of apathy.
What else? Today I participated in a jam session that sounded like Sufjan Stevens on a drug trip. Instruments: guitar, drums, bass, trumpet, clarinet provided by Beka, tenor sax provided by Jessi, and myself on my violin with a shiny new electric pickup. Oh, it was glorious. That is what heaven is going to be like--a whole lot of sounds happening at once and somehow fitting together. And then we played Tetris and the Matts smoked fruit punch-flavored tobacco and we were all seriously grossed out by old Penthouses and Playboys. Just another nuit typique, comme toujours.
I am, for once, not going to even discuss how most things are not so great right now and that I could really use some structure and people and little things like expensive coffee or screen printing t-shirts or spray painting or dancing or something to keep my mind going. No way no how.
Hope life is going swimmingly, literally.