February 2012
2 posts
January 2012
13 posts
“When I mastered the skill of hating, somebody started loving me.”
– Shakespeare
“Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of...”
– Hamlet
Because I've been a corpse for too long.
I want to paint mugs, volunteer, write, finish all my books, start the painting I’ve been dreaming about, cook the main course dinners I’ve been contemplating, and not wake up thinking of work everyday.
When money becomes a road block between you and the things you love, what are you supposed to do? The experience will look good for other jobs, it surely presents a token of...
All the restrictions are off.
The limits are going to be pressed. My birthday is over. We are amongst a catacomb of liquors. Bring it. Night.
December 2011
14 posts
“And all these trendy hair cuts, you can’t even tell who’s a...”
– ~Lauren
To dream of an airplane crashing
“To dream that a plane crashes suggests that you have set overly high and unrealistic goals for yourself. Your goals may be too high and are impossible to realize. You are in danger of having it come crashing down. Alternatively, your lack of confidence, self-defeating attitude and self-doubt toward the goals you have set for yourself is represented by the crashing airplane; you do not...
The amount that I hate everything at this moment. The inconceivable horror of the crowd I will face on a double for Christmas Eve. The building blocks of paranoia I’ve created, stacking their way up to the clouds.
It’s all so very stressful.
WatchGod fucking damn it :(.
I don't think I can be payed to be nice, anymore.
I hate my job. I hate my job. I hate my job. I’m on my last limb here.
November 2011
26 posts
If anything
The coughing persists eagerly.
Something ward off the demons while I sleep,
but nothing comes.
Rocks and peaches
Right now, I am so happy. 3 cups of coffee already, and an apple for breakfast. I love Austin. I love San Marcos. I love short trips. I can’t wait to explore the school all over again. Then, I’ll arrive home with just enough time to meet up with you later. I can feel my heart swelling with excitement.
Read as much as possible.
I will live through a million fates, passing from one literary window to another.
I've already done that.
Why be so idiotic all over again? I suppose it’s never finished business.
Everyday:
I write in my little red notebook, drinking out of my crimson thermos, thinking ‘Themis, Themis, Themis’.
“Didn’t I stand there once,
white-knuckled, gripping the just-lit taper, ...”
– Anniversary by Ted Kooser U.S. Poet Laureate
