2010-01-17
company in my back
listening to wilco right now. so good. also writing an essay on abstract art. feel like such a college student. kind of miss my mom. want to move beyond the verge of things, the mere possibility of them, the hint and the shade and the tinge of potential. ready for some actuality. won't be getting any, because people freak out when you press the status quo. too busy and rational. i can understand. i don't like people poking at my rationality either. there's social rituals for how things are supposed to work, and you're best off respecting those.
curl my lips and crawl up to you
so good. need to create more. i'm waiting for sadness to hit me or something, but i can tell it's not going to.
steady crushing hand
it's dark already. i thought the days would start getting longer, ever since solstice passed. they still seem pretty short. maybe i can inspire myself. i probably can. if i have the vision for it. i want the vision for it. i know how to make myself feel really good. that's a fun secret. i want a hearty meal, a cat on my face, and a glass of wine resting in the fingers of my listlessly perched hand, upturned. back to this essay. this is my life. �The sensation of happiness that is released in us by the reproduction of organically beautiful vitality, what modern man designates beauty, is a gratification of that inner need for self-activation in which Lipps sees the presupposition of the process of empathy� (Worringer 68). it'll kind of suck when this isn't my life, when i don't have this coherent structure. we'll see.
would also like to hug a dog right now, and get engrossed in a three-hour-long movie. i want to see 'the hurt locker.' back to the essay. love to all.
leesah-likes at 5:42 p.m.