in red square there's some sort of magnet, I'm sure ( Read more... )

mon dieu. how happy would I be if I could coherently construct just one sentence? if I could make one decision without running through the myriad of potential reprucussions of each scenario. this isn't even serious stuff we're dealing with here. this isn't easy stuff like truth and lies, life and death. this is the soul-numbing complexity of ( Read more... )

slip down the shingles in slippers because cigarettes are still-pseudo-secrets and that (desafortunadamente o no) is part of their continuing appeal. read old man on the sea while it's still light out. prepare for something too-talked-up based on the note on the inside cover. from a friend to a friend on christmas. promising wisdom. (I'm ( Read more... )

damp outside. damp inside. how can such a cool and rainy day produce such sweaty armpits? powerstripe my ass. unless my deodorant's label is referring to the stripe of perspiration on each underarm seam of my shirt as a source of power. which, I suppose, I will have to believe in order to remain positive about the situation. ah, trivialities ( Read more... )

I happen to be one of those folks you hate. one of those chewy-dehydrated-fruit-that-is-delightful-until-it's-still-stuck-to-your-teeth-three-hours-later kids who is cheery and chipper during finals week. because this, my dears, is what finals week means to me: primarily, no class. in all essences of the word. I am free to sleep in. this ( Read more... )

anthologies are friendly enemies. like sea urchins with magenta tentacles and poisonous under-things.

You walk aimlessly along, fixing up a philosophy for supper. But before you have it ready…all your pigs have died of rabies, your dinner jacket has been thrown off the Eiffel Tower, your housekeeper has come down with the epizootic. You give a ( Read more... )

valentines day. corner of the 3rd floor of the wilson library. I look up from my book when I realize I'm not thinking about what's on the pages. notice I'm in the french poetry section. think that's kind of poetic. start to write something down about being heartbroken on hallmark day around all these green and grey bound books. think it's ( Read more... )

there is no way to avoid it. I am on the verge of so many things. my toes are being tempted by so many little waves (I've been reading too much virginia woolf)... my little cat is not so little anymore (by means of his little parts becoming even smaller by means of surgery- have you ever read "welcome to the monkey house"?- interesting parallels ( Read more... )

in order to protest the world which is winding up so tight around me ( Read more... )

so much for my liberal education ( Read more... )