Saturday, October 07, 2006
So pretty when you're unfaithful to me . . .
She refused to break up with me so I broke up with her via email, refusing to respond to her broken arrow.
I've been slouching around all week, like a guy at the fair on stilts who keeps falling off his stilts.
It's cancer's persistence that makes it so hard. Transfer that same quality to people and it just makes them look admirably desperate. Like drawing lines from word to proper definition, but running out of paper.
I'm re-reading my work, and it's better than I thought, but also harder to pick up. It's like reading an embarrasing poem over and over, and the assignment is to finish it in your own voice. I could write and write and never manage to say anything.
Someone once asked me what I could do with my major: "You gonna be a philosophist?" At the time, I corrected him, but I really shouldn't have. I should have just agreed with him and told him I was going to be the greatest philosophist the world had ever seen.
I've been slouching around all week, like a guy at the fair on stilts who keeps falling off his stilts.
It's cancer's persistence that makes it so hard. Transfer that same quality to people and it just makes them look admirably desperate. Like drawing lines from word to proper definition, but running out of paper.
I'm re-reading my work, and it's better than I thought, but also harder to pick up. It's like reading an embarrasing poem over and over, and the assignment is to finish it in your own voice. I could write and write and never manage to say anything.
Someone once asked me what I could do with my major: "You gonna be a philosophist?" At the time, I corrected him, but I really shouldn't have. I should have just agreed with him and told him I was going to be the greatest philosophist the world had ever seen.
