Style, not substance
I haven't had a moment to myself all day, except for right now of course.
There was also the train. I always have time to reflect on the train. But when I'm on the train, I'm usually trying to not think about the fact that I'm on the train. When the train isn't running late, I'm on it for 40 minutes at a time. I get so tired of sitting on the train for so long each day. Some days I just want to walk up and down the aisles, muttering my strange strings of thoughts softly: not loudly enough to be really understood by those around me, just about at the volume that would make people uncomfortable. But I never do. Instead, I sit and listen to music and sometimes look out the window at all of the trash and bullet holes it passes by as it winds through the city, but mostly I try to forget that I'm on the train.
It was certainly a long day. Perhaps that's the price I pay for having two days "off" during the week. I guess it means I have to make up the time which I should be spending on campus during those two days at some point in the course of the other three. Mondays are usually the worst.
Tonight: 2-3 fingers of bourbon to settle my nerves. No, not really to settle them, more or less to make that feeling which I'd imagine comes after exposure to electric shock fade away. A good night for numbing regardless of how I describe my physical state. Can hardly believe it's 10pm. Maybe that's the feeling: time accelerated for me, and my body was ravaged as it was hurled forward into the now. Even my mind, it seems, is still reeling.
There was also the train. I always have time to reflect on the train. But when I'm on the train, I'm usually trying to not think about the fact that I'm on the train. When the train isn't running late, I'm on it for 40 minutes at a time. I get so tired of sitting on the train for so long each day. Some days I just want to walk up and down the aisles, muttering my strange strings of thoughts softly: not loudly enough to be really understood by those around me, just about at the volume that would make people uncomfortable. But I never do. Instead, I sit and listen to music and sometimes look out the window at all of the trash and bullet holes it passes by as it winds through the city, but mostly I try to forget that I'm on the train.
It was certainly a long day. Perhaps that's the price I pay for having two days "off" during the week. I guess it means I have to make up the time which I should be spending on campus during those two days at some point in the course of the other three. Mondays are usually the worst.
Tonight: 2-3 fingers of bourbon to settle my nerves. No, not really to settle them, more or less to make that feeling which I'd imagine comes after exposure to electric shock fade away. A good night for numbing regardless of how I describe my physical state. Can hardly believe it's 10pm. Maybe that's the feeling: time accelerated for me, and my body was ravaged as it was hurled forward into the now. Even my mind, it seems, is still reeling.