May 2009
27 posts
Cheers and jeers
JEERS!: If you are rejected from Peace Corps, that’s how you know you are really a loser.
CHEERS!: I won FREE MONEY just for writing poems! CROWN ME WITH LAURELS PLZ
ITCHY
WHY AM I SO ITCHY?
SPIDERS BITE ME IN MY SLEEP!
THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT BECAUSE I’M ASLEEP
SO ITCHY! ITCHYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Rilke, "Requiem for a friend"
“For this is wrong, is anything is wrong:
not to enlarge the freedom of a love
with all the inner freedom one can summon.
We need, in love, to practice only this:
letting each other go. For holding on
comes easily; we do not need to learn it.”
"If it's pretty, it's poetry!"
- says Averill in poetry class, tongue-in-cheek of course.
There is an incredible satisfaction in writing while sitting on the floor. Miranda July, in all her over-preciousness, had some good observations in that book of hers - one went something like, sometimes you have to sit on the floor, because chairs are for people, and sometimes you don’t feel like a person.
But I do however feel...
Staring out library window
Gulls crying over a sky like iron sheets, and waves the same dull blue-gray, farther away in the lake, with cold white foam, and even farther and fainter-gray, the city.
Internet nostalgia
Hey everybody are you ready to party? Are you ready to clap yo hands and dance? Let’s get down! Let’s forget all our troubles! Walkin down the street with my friends We’re eating ice cream, oh yeah yeah Dancing like we just don’t care, yeah yeah Clap yo hands and dance (x 3) Everybody, c’mon now!
This is my song “Clap yo hands and dance” that I just found...
Anger in the Peets
At Peets, and let out an involuntary cry of exasperation as my thesis’ footnotes were driving me up the wall. The woman next to me gave me what my mom calls a “mookie face” - big eyes, bottom lip out. It made me feel better.
Also, I may be climbing onto my high horse (again), but I can’t help feeling peeved about some of the women in this article sounding the death knell...
The dreads versus tight pants
Listening to a guy describe the difference between hippies and hipsters to his date at the Wildtree. Damned if I know, I get called both of them. My set prefers just “hip,” if you please!
From "Wait," by Galway Kinnell
Wait, for now. Distrust everything, if you have to. But trust the hours. Haven’t they carried you everywhere, up to now? Personal events will become interesting again. Hair will become interesting. Pain will become interesting. Buds that open out of season will become lovely again. Second-hand gloves will become lovely again, their memories are what give them the need for other hands...
PARTY CAT →
courtesy of erinbird
I love this so much. Also this comic reminds me of how I like to wake up Joshua when I’m at my parents’ house. Once I put on that insanely happy song from The Darjeeling Limited and danced around his room. He looked at me and said, genuinely confused, “Why are you doing this to me?”
