Argh. Every damn day I'm on this campus, and every day it's a little more sickening.
Lovely weather, though. Warm for late Oct, & the ol' Irish blood just eats up this chilled rain.
So what the hell am I doing Saturday? My girl went an implanted the seed of a "something," involving the ever-ominous force of "surprise." But I've been assured that it won't end in me waking in a tub of ice, which is really all one can ask for. Still, this's going to drive me (more) crazy.
I am Shiva, Destroyer of Worlds. Kneel before me! I said kneel, neodrunk! Oh yeah, mmm....
It's sad when the best part of your day is the first half-hour.
What is this emotion? Not fear, but a tempting misnomer. No, this is...doubt? Wariness? There's a shoe waiting, hovering as the sword of Damocles. I've no concept of what it is, no timeline on how long I have. It might just be the rampant potential for things to go wrong. If I were still under the heel of depression...and worse than that near-history is that, even now, I'm tempted to throw it all away. Everything. How was it John Gardner put it...the two great abysses, the universe and the human mind, two snakepits (close, and yet not). This is the story of mankind, of which I am a mere simulacrum. The only path to vanquish your fear is to give in to it. I've spent so much of the past year (be honest...it's been much longer than that) giving in to my nightmares that, by now, I can see the end of it. Closer...closer. Is this the way my world ends?
I should have been a pair of ragged claws,
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
Or is there, yet,
a dream for salvation?
Errata, Charles Simic
Where it says snow
read teeth-marks of a virgin
Where it says knife read
you passed through my bones
like a police-whistle
Where it says table read horse
Where it says horse read my migrant's bundle
Apples are to remain apples
Each time a hat appears
think of Isaac Newton
reading the Old Testament
Remove all periods
They are scars made by words
I couldn't bring myself to say
Put a finger over each sunrise
it will blind you otherwise
That damn ant is still stirring
Will there be time left to list
all errors to replace
all hands guns owls plates
all cigars ponds woods and reach
that beer-bottle my greatest mistake
the word I allowed to be written
when I should have shouted
her name
Lovely weather, though. Warm for late Oct, & the ol' Irish blood just eats up this chilled rain.
So what the hell am I doing Saturday? My girl went an implanted the seed of a "something," involving the ever-ominous force of "surprise." But I've been assured that it won't end in me waking in a tub of ice, which is really all one can ask for. Still, this's going to drive me (more) crazy.
I am Shiva, Destroyer of Worlds. Kneel before me! I said kneel, neodrunk! Oh yeah, mmm....
It's sad when the best part of your day is the first half-hour.
What is this emotion? Not fear, but a tempting misnomer. No, this is...doubt? Wariness? There's a shoe waiting, hovering as the sword of Damocles. I've no concept of what it is, no timeline on how long I have. It might just be the rampant potential for things to go wrong. If I were still under the heel of depression...and worse than that near-history is that, even now, I'm tempted to throw it all away. Everything. How was it John Gardner put it...the two great abysses, the universe and the human mind, two snakepits (close, and yet not). This is the story of mankind, of which I am a mere simulacrum. The only path to vanquish your fear is to give in to it. I've spent so much of the past year (be honest...it's been much longer than that) giving in to my nightmares that, by now, I can see the end of it. Closer...closer. Is this the way my world ends?
I should have been a pair of ragged claws,
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
Or is there, yet,
a dream for salvation?
Errata, Charles Simic
Where it says snow
read teeth-marks of a virgin
Where it says knife read
you passed through my bones
like a police-whistle
Where it says table read horse
Where it says horse read my migrant's bundle
Apples are to remain apples
Each time a hat appears
think of Isaac Newton
reading the Old Testament
Remove all periods
They are scars made by words
I couldn't bring myself to say
Put a finger over each sunrise
it will blind you otherwise
That damn ant is still stirring
Will there be time left to list
all errors to replace
all hands guns owls plates
all cigars ponds woods and reach
that beer-bottle my greatest mistake
the word I allowed to be written
when I should have shouted
her name
VIEW 10 of 10 COMMENTS
why do i feel like we're pen pals?
i've never set foot on anything campus related except high school, and that was plenty, you'll have to enlighten me on it's shittiness sometime.
Should I change my name to R_D? Will people think that I'm a scientist?
It surprise me that you like the Drive By Truckers. It's a good surprise!
Do you like Crooked Fingers? They are playing Monday night at the First Ave.....Kiki and I are going.