Are those not the two grossest words ever to be used in proximity to each other? I've been having visions of getting trapped under hot moist asphalt. I am stuck within it and simultaneously attempting to rescue myself. Nearby, there are noodles. My hair is long and matted, tangled. That is the partial revelation. The rest will come when I am dead.
Florida was beguiling in its freedom to live and love the other. Good for them!!!! Right????
Upon return the apartment has grown shiverous, extremely icy for no apparent reason. I dream I am Paris Hilton in the night, I am Paris Hilton singing together with Morrissey and it makes so much sense.
I miss you all in the deepest most loin-shrinking way. Don't be grossed out. Please. I am re-vamping to re-emerge afresh later. Tomorrow is for teaching so I am preparing a presentation on Philip Guston. He seems like a good idea to me. Next week is the final week of classes, the week after there are critiques or some such nonsense. It is narrowing thankfully down to the end...
I feel rabid. I am unsure. I am seeking of answers in the form of chemically-altered water.
Sunday, November 27, 2005
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7 comments:
I feel dirty. I feel soiled.
My presence is not appreciated. I can't help this stink and degradation of moral codes.
Wishing I could here you talk on Guston. Can you record and post as a pod cast or something... or fuck, thats too hard.
my moral codes come in bite sized nuggets. They are easily digested.
hi mm. i feel insane. i ate all the nuggets.
hi mm, Sloth had a dream last night of peeing in a litter box. it was satisfying.
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