From the desk of a student center computer Saturday, Mar. 26, 2005 Aha, yet another entry in these days of entries. Another group of experiences where I come across as mellow/apathetic but where I'm really psyched actually. The rhythms of my time are like a bad sweat stain. I want to pump a raw carrot into my nose and drown in ooze. I thought about Matthew yesterday and how he would step into a portal to an unknown place/time. I wondered if he really would or if he was just fronting. I think he still would, and I think I still wouldn't. Balloons are ascending a staircase. My self esteem is such that I would love to be revered. I'm half-asleep, and this is what I'm saying. I'm paranoid that my 5 minutes are up. A woman in an immaculate peach robe is ascending the staircase. They're singing Happy Birthday. Art is like time travel because you can increase trust in a way that this time rate could not behold. I keep want to be trusted and shown to a magical land. I want to be let in and shown it. God made me slouch so that I could know what this feels like. God is everywhere, and I'm following it like a subway. This is my creative writing project. Last night, Will said he was trying to understand these movies, and I said it's like being in someone's head or some aspect of that. I'm just rambling on and on because I'm so sleepy. I'm waiting for something. I'm waiting for sleep, a hot shower, taking off and putting on clothes, plucking a string, and my bare foot on carpet. |
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