Paging

Ache my head

Give me a trilogy

To float me into a new part

Give me misspent hours

With no regrets

Give me aromatic shells

That crack and split and yield

I believe in you

I believe in your power

Hold my

It’s spit and mortar

Holding me up it’s

Ghosts and horror

Filling my cup

And the log rough hands of fate

Can’t keep themselves to themselves

And The fruit we scorned and ate

Is flying off the shelves

I’m bus

I think too much and it rots

I joke to my assistant that I’m in a dream

But it feels true

I don’t believe in anything but I

Feel like there’s a touch of the devine

In the way my projects come together

I can’t see the pattern while I do it 

But I do it

And the pattern is there 

I dream about Manhattan 

And a roller coaster subway ride

I dream about

Candle

Hi. I’m still here, more or less. I’ve felt like I’ll somehow curse my life by writing on here, which is silly I guess, but *knocks on wood about it* Anyway, yeah. It’s a busy time. My eyes are tired from being open for so long and I really need to fucking exercise and I should probably consume a vegetable sometime in the relatively near future. Maybe actually get some groceries so I have some type of food in the house. Whatever. whatever. dude, I’m tired. Just one question set and three freelance articles to go, for today. 15 pages from two classes, 12 pages from another, and 25 pages from another = a total of 67 fucking pages of papers that I have to write in the next 1.25 months. Holy fucking shit dude. Holy Fucking Shit. Dude. That’s not to mention the 10 minute presentation I have to somehow?? make?? and the regular weekly work that is still happening. The discussions and reading questions and article summaries. Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo yeah! cool, cool, co co co co co co coool! Grad school was a Fun and Good idea! My summer financial aid better come thru, so I can split up my last 4 classes over summer and fall, and only have to take 1 other class while I write my dissertation, instead of taking 3 other classes while writing my dissertation. But, ultimately, we’ll see. We’ll see we’ll see we’ll see. I just want to practice knots and ties and have my body worshiped while I casually sip wine. Jeeze. Why is all of this happening instead? Alright, it’s time for me to do more work. I’m out. peace.