System of A Down.

Kneeling roses disappearing into
Moses' dry mouth
Breaking into Fort Knox stealing
Our intentions
Hangers sitting dripped in oil
Crying freedom
Handed to obsoletion,
Still you feed us lies from the tablecloth
Everybody's going to the party
have a real good time
Dancing in the desert
blowing up the sunshine

You can't call me political, and a good deal of those allusions waft pass me, and I should be researching ETA in "real books" as opposed to random websites about Star Wars merchandise, but I can't deny the catchiness of that song.

She should step more confidently, I think, and I should tell her this.

Counting down again.

I'll never be as enamored of this
as they are.

preparing to go into the cold night with wet hair, as usual

I don't feel the need to write. I only wish to be, right now.

Though I do need something to read besides old ice skating biographies aimed at twelve-year-olds. Anyone, anyone?

persevere ::festive stars and colors that clash with the red and black motif that is Cortland::

I'm spectacularly awake right now, and I enjoy cosmic bowling, particularly when I'm good at it.

Of course, 2am is a lovely time to correct papers.

I enjoy the imagery of Laurel charging the second floor in camoflauge and whacking her residents with sticks.

And I MOST particularly enjoy el hecho de que I'm going home in two days, and how good that feels. Almost as good as my shins. But not quite.

Dance.

I simply don't feel the need to be useful right now!

The life of Laurel, RA-extraordinare:

"haha i almost quit after the first one. some kid got taken out in cuffs and there was a random wasted guy wandering the halls. it was a bad time."

::Fond flashbacks to nightclerking and witnessing various people taken away by EMS. Mmm, knew I was in for a good viewing experience whenever the ambulance rolled up! And the hours passed slowly after that...and I wrote in Spanish...and started to lose all sense of feeling...::

College students are, well, a mess.

This young lady...

...is two today. :-)

Pike's Peak, Blaine Wilson, and S'mores

I speak too much for tired eyes, but somehow I can't stop writing right now.

STD

"I'm happy to tell you that your academic performance at Cortland qualifies you for membership in Sigma Tau Delta, the national English honorary."

...?

Oh, English.

--

Laughter in the living room as Brittany and Emeline cuddle to Elf. (Not together -- at least, not when I was last in the room.) Lights, warmth, love...ah. Home.

Thursday, without 8:30 class.

I wake up later than usual and read in small bursts and think to myself, if I can just keep writing, if I think to somewhere else, my stomach will stop hurting and my breath won't feel strained.

same name

But what to think when you realize that you've begun to lose the old association?

Some nights you're the singer, and some nights you need to hear the lullaby.

Who's that casting devious stares in my direction?

"Can video games educate America?" asks msn.com. I'm going to go with "no" on that one, but if you can enlighten me, please do.

Evidently UPenn does not have classes earlier than 9am. Evidently SUNY does not feel similarly. "Sunny?" Oh, certainly not sunny.

It seems to be a common experience of the literate human to, after a certain point (or perhaps all along the way), become desperate to put words down in order to fulfill the minimum. Wouldn't it be more difficult to write a profound statement on a novel in one sentence? And not be permitted to elaborate?

"If you need help making stuff up, let me know," I say. I mean it sincerely.

As I prepare to do laundry and wonder if I have enough quarters,

I realize for the first time that I don't know, and that it's okay to not know.

Chai tea tastes good, and not for "intellectual appeal." An old book comforts me right now when my mind is unsure of where to run. I'm treading, not thinking, not despairing.

I am going to be something real, I decide.

So if I decide
to waiver my chance
to be one of the hive
Will I choose water over wine and hold my own and drive?
It's driven me before and it seems to be the way
that everyone else gets around.
But lately I'm beginning to find
that when I drive myself,
my light is found.

-incubus.

el Pais Vasco

Leave your name here if you'd like to be an ETA terrorist for my Spanish presentation, or if you are one.

::Quietly hums a love song to herself, content.::

Ice blue but never chill.

Storm/Tides

How long have I been in this storm?
So overwhelmed by the
ocean’s shapeless form
Water's getting harder to tread
With these waves crashing over my head
If I could just see you,
Everything would be all right
IfI could see you
This darkness would turn to light
And I will walk on water
And you will catch me if I fall
And I will get lost into your eyes
And everything will be all right
And everything will be all right
I know you didn’t bring me out here to drown
So why am I
ten feet under and upside down?
Barely surviving has become my purpose
Because I’m so used to living underneath the surface
And I will walk on water
And you will catch me if I fall...


Thank you, Lifehouse.

I dreamt of a large wave quietly and quickly flowing in from the Sound. Water tumbled from the bluffs to meet it, and suddenly it jumped in height and breadth. The sky was a beautifully clear blue, and the foam turned all to whitewater. I'm barely standing on sand. I move to where the bluffs are blocked by a small wood frame, but the water moves me to an open space. A breaker arches over my head, encompassing the sky and my hope. Am I going to die? I am going to die. I close my eyes. I feel nothing.

My body shifts in bed. To the next dream. I live.