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Oct. 1st, 2014

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(no subject)

oh boy.

Jan. 24th, 2012

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(no subject)

Hello, livejournal.

I miss you as a legitimate outlet.

May. 17th, 2011

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(no subject)

Somehow, the LJ thread about post-structuralism that's been taking place between Jonathan and Michael has brought me back into my academic and critical self a little bit. This is a person that I have unfortunately lost touch with in all the hub-bub of real world problems, like money, and jobs, roommates and dishes and instantly streaming media.

I've remembered, a little, who I am and who I was, and why I believe the things that I do and did. I need to start writing and reading again. Being disconnected from centers of research and knowledge has done interesting and in some cases unfortunate things to my brain, and to my talent for assessing ideas and situations.

That being said, I have two off days forthcoming, and while I'd really like to think that I will work on my new writing sample, or start re-reading Violence and Metaphysics, I will most likely clean my house to some slightly warped vinyl and play Fable III, gear up for my next row of pizzeria bartending shifts, and cuddle with my boyfriend. Sadly, all of these things are so much easier than reliving the days where I woke up overwhelmed and paralyzed by, for lack of a better word, shitty and unfair systems of power and cultural thought against which I felt entirely helpless to change.

Someday, I'll get my ass (back) into gear, right?

Jun. 12th, 2010

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(no subject)

This may be a little naive, but

I still don't understand how people can be so mean.

Jun. 9th, 2010

everything is illuminated

Rediscovery.

If you've never listened to Max Richter's The Blue Notebooks, do it now. If you didn't do it five years ago when I wanted you to feel it with me for the first time, do it now.

No, I am serious. Download it. Put it on your iPod, in your CD player, take a nice drive, plan a walk. Do it alone. Take your last cigarette(s), smoke them carefully and with conviction. Don't skip tracks. Sleep outside, watch the trees and touch the soil. This is the full spectrum of human emotion, our entire capacity for feeling articulated in eleven tracks. Run the gauntlet, but keep it secret.

At the very least, in the span of one hour, if not infinite, you will feel alive.

Apr. 29th, 2010

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(no subject)

Dear Bachelor's degree,

SUCK IT.

:)

Hellloooo graduate school.

Dec. 6th, 2009

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on and unrelated note, I'm really into stripes.

I think I'm finding a balance, again, and I feel wonderful sometimes, albeit inconsistent and unpredictable (I know I wouldn't trust it otherwise).

Go outside. Exhale. It's worth it.

Nov. 22nd, 2009

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(no subject)

I'm alright today.
although, I really want to cuddle.

Oct. 30th, 2009

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I want, so desperately, just to be able to sleep.

Oct. 19th, 2009

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(no subject)

I am thankful for this weather, for every degree drop forces the realization that things may not really be so bad. I'm still singing, even when my mouth is closed.

This is when I come alive, in thick tights and tight jackets. With wind biting my calves and wrists and fingertips, when lit cigarettes become sources of adrenaline and testaments of life, I feel suddenly extroverted, expressive, calm.

There is something I am braving, there is some other that I am fighting for with every exhaled breath. These are the days I will pen later with a nostalgic hand, and the hot and temperamental months that preceded this moment will be swept like fallen leaves into piles, fragments of arguments and desperate confessions collecting on street corners and neighboring yards. I am willing to let out what I've learned, able finally to throw away, to look away from bare June.

This is the season in which scant glances bespeak the loudest commands, where haughty dispositions are exchanged for limitless juxtapositions of skin. Dances of limbs become the favored mode of communication: soft lips, wistful feet, outstretched hands.

These are days for books and for burnings, for recalling previous fires and for bathing in them, somewhere between imagination and memory. This is me becoming myself becoming someone else again, vulnerable, weightless and gasping for air.

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