| 2:08 am |
Abstraction is so blase...
Man. O Man. O man. Yes, I do tend to steal from the many quotes and witticisms that occupy my diluted mind...American Beauty. Great movie. Great great movie. I figure everyone has to be self-reflexive and TALK about the actual journal at some point...the usual schpill...dear god! how self-indulgent and narcissistic and "oh my god that is totally weird."
And it is. But that is okay. I buy into it. I will do it. It is all okay.
Yet for some odd reason I think that "Americanism" has finally mangled my mind...why in the name of all things holy am I special enough to warrant an online collection of my mindless drivel! Why!
Yeah....whatever....I apoligize....okay....so I am a college student. Let me proceed with the obligatory descriptors...I go to UT Austin. I am white.I am a sophomore (why white came second is very intriguing.) I am an angst-ridden poet, and a hopeless lawyer, hell bent on success. Wallace Stevens did it! So can I! I might be transferring to ivy-league if I do intend to pursue a more focused career in creative writing, and also if I am indeed deemed "good enough."
I use a lot of ellipses in my writing to convey the discombobulation (I spelled it out phonetically) of the very postmodern mind.
I am hopelessly pretentious.
I am gay...thats right ladies. I'm sorry. I am kinda in-between sexual orientations really, vacillating between asexual and that of the homo variety. Stupid sex. In high school I was not "out" by any means, I am kinda stepping out there. Slowly. I was the debate/theater/choir person in my school, total over-achiever....yet not really. If that makes any sense.
I generally do not make any sense. This little collection of thoughts will most likely be my own vanguard of special recollections, and meditations (absent the metaphysical wit). I love that play by the way, "Wit" by Margaret Edson. One of the best in the past 30 years, hell the last century. I LOVE HARRY POTTER. (I had to capitalize that sentence to get the full effect, as if it is said by a thirteen year old girl. (The most fitting representation of my gender))
But whom am I kidding (that is right, whom, in that particular instance, at least I think it is, I am a little tipsy)...everyone wants to be loved. And by god! so do I. There is a lot more territory to excavate, and I shall make like Indiana Jones and dig (mmmm Harrison Ford)...but at a later date. I am going to watch Velvet Goldmine and drift into catatonia.
Tata dawlins...or whoever reads this...if there is any such person(s)....
Arsenic Dave with the meandering chest ought to have forgot the macabre and remembered the short sentence delegated to his work station-- the hull could crack my own awl with its grin, but that sin would have been deadly |