Procrastination

Just think of all the things I could have accomplished If I only put them off for half the time I normally do.

memory loss

Sometimes I look back on my previous posts and I don't remember writing them.

I feel so disjointed these days.

The mystical magical sought after being.
The hairy little monster between my legs will eat you up.

Big Hair, Big Lashes

I want to be in a super glam girl band.

I Love You Really, I Don't Mean This

Fuck you for making me wonder
Fuck you for making me think
even for one second
that your heart is changed
I need to know you love me completely
Every second of the day
or I need to know you don't
But I won't let you play
any games with my time
my summer's too precious
too porous and fleeting
to spend it dreaming of you
if you wont be meeting
me halfway along
If you expect me to wait
I need a good reason
I need to be sure
cause you've had your time
to see other girls

I hate you
for seeming to be
better at this
whole deal than me

You Were Right About The Stars

Wilco soothes my aching brain. 'I assassin down the avenue' - so good

Spending my day in the library again, I am more concerned with design and color and wind and folded paper than I am with taking a literal definition of art from a stream of consciousness book for an analytical essay.

The trees have been blowing dried buds in on Nora and I where we sit with our open windows. The big green leafy one has been flirting with the dainty white flowered lovely.

I've been reading and loving www.ohjoy.blogs.com.

Bookish Angels

I am in the library and the pouring that I've been anticipating has finally come.
My dear Nora and I went and rested our foreheads against the frame of an open window, kneeling on a bench. I stretched my arms out into the rain. The breeze alternated between warm air flowing out from behind us and cool air blowing in from outside. The rain came in waves of monsoon through spring shower. Sometimes the water drops were huge, plodding down from the sky to pebble my arms. Water dripped on the inside of my elbow from the window. When the wind blew droplets into my eyes i put on my sunglasses so I wouldn't have to close them. We watched girls with and without umbrellas running and tripping through the wet. The lightning and thunder was exhilarating. I felt so refreshed, washed clean of my stress over finals. Gorgeous.
I've been in and out of the library since one today. I am getting jack done. I have come to the conclusion that I don't know what makes a good essay, let alone how to write one.

These bookish angels peering down from the rafters
seem stern and malicious some days
watching over generations of students
trying to mend lazy ways
they hold books and scrolls looming over us
like prison guards waiting to strike
I can't get work done in their unblinking gaze
but they keep me as long as they like
releasing me into the grim light of dawn
to drag myself back to my room
I feel their disapproving glares on my back
as I plod ever on towards my doom