Pre------->Post

Well here we go again.

I find it quite interesting whenever I come back and post something on this barely breathing, barely touched blog that it appears that any time I ever post something here is when I shouldn't be posting. I mean, I guess I use this as a last resort, last possible distraction to prolong the procrastination that is my college career.

Oh well, at least someone (most emphasis is on the one) has something to read.

Anywhos......


I find it interesting that unlike my fellow peers, I find myself aged beyond my years.

In my current state I find it peculiar that my bedtimes are always earlier on the weekends than they are on the weekdays (ahem school nights), That probably shows what the proportions of my life right now have amounted to.

I apologize for being so secluded. I don't mean to be but yet I do try.

Buckley You Sly Sly Dog

Inspirations Lacking

In search of foundation.

We'll see.

Aids In Finance. Work-Study

Ummm......so yeah bureaucracy sucks.

I've been working so so hard to get this job in order so I don't have to worry about the all the paperwork anymore. I mean, it's weird to say that all I want to do is work.

Is that so hard to do?

Research should be the hardest thing about this job but why does it seem like easiest.

KSADS SIPS BASC WISC SCQ MRIRUN ERPRUN STROOP

I've never been so excited for a cubicle before in my life.

Hopefully, just hopefully, this all works out.

Perhaps I see research in the Future? Whatever happened to clinical?

Friday Night Laundry. 2 Loads and One for Morning

Such Young Nice Boys Such Nice Young Boys

Such young nice boys become the fury

To whom, however, predisposed, these are

Those young nice boys, grow in surpass of their brothers

Though sisters, we sisters, are kept to quite the dainty hands

Of the unbridled strength of the Being, Naïve

Not to be heard but not them to be unknown

There is mission to be clever

Smart is, as only as it does at some point

Towards that sly, that mischief, of words hidden in birth

Are we what separates the tongues of the falsetto remembrance?

A break in pitch, in frequency, to whom laughter results

Is all that remains of the degradation of freckles with wrinkles too

Come soft wrinkles, come hard lines that fissure

We have cut the cables of this imagination

That phantasmal panorama of the bygones of yester

Apparition and opposition seem to engulf that lover

Of wants and begs to womb

I am no mother to these young nice boys

I am no father to these nice young men

Forever I’ll be

Forever To you

Even though I am to you,

That young nice boy who craves the transition of that young nice man

It Was Once Today . Saw There The Past

Here's a line out of John Hollander's poem By Heart that has seemed to stick out to me just now.

"We play by ear, but learn the words by heart;"

Just let it sit for awhile. I know I'm sitting.