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.