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No title
5 December 02

you wear that look of concern well
and my eyes even smile
in an oscar-worthy performance
of clarified happie fluffies
while inside it's raging

this juxtaposition too unstable to be mine
but it exemplifies me all the time
and my hyperspastic utterances
try to expel this feeling
because I don't want it
inside my head anymore
but the room spins too much for me
to really see just what I have
done to me

so I try to focus on the point
that single point to keep me grounded
and smiling, not with clenched teeth
unpearly white in my caffeinated state
and all I can do to save this soul
from cracking irrevocably is to create
the letters, syllables, spaces
beats words meanings melt
save me from that whirlpool of
sodden tears and salty eyelashes
on sanguine skin
lets me escape
although I know
it's pure fantasy

vision of images, lines, and lack
but at least then I had it for a second
if not a bit more
and my cold fingers clench tightly
against the air
and I find my self all at once nowhere

but I'll return to these lines,
only mine, and remember that moment
when my hands shake and my eyes swim
because

the coherence of the fragment
can ultimately save the whole.
--E.C. Bradfield, 5 December 02

 
I don't really like Vanilla Coke, so that breaks my heart. It's like Flynn not getting Sonic Youth -- I feel like I am missing something. Old traditional vanilla Coke like from a diner - that is pretty good, but I am still more of a diet Coke kinda girl. Maybe with lemon. But all natural not the bottled weird lemon drop candy-coatedness that it has become. ANd it's cold here too. Like 20 degrees? Something like that. Well it's 28 and feels like 20 or something stoopid. And I'm in Tennessee mind you. What's that all about?

The papering madness continues, as my sleep deprivation experiments continue on in their ways as they do...I have gotten to bed between 3.30 and 4.45 every night this week, and been up by 7 or 8. Yep. no sleepies for me. But maybe some tonight. I've got maybe 15 pages of my K+N paper done, but it will have maybe 10 more pages to go before I finish it, at least I think, then edit and paring down (?) It will be an epic. GRrrth. Well I might type some of that shiznit up tonight because I want to feel like I have something solid even if it won't be permanent.

 
Don't be a chump. It has gotten to that crucial point of the semester that I should be writing nonstop in order to get all my crap done and have it in on time and in good form. But no. I am not. I am too busy being a chump as always in my love life that doesn't quite exist. I have gotten to that oh so vital point of explode or say what's on your mind. And I hate it. I don't really want to say anything because it is too much of a pattern for me. "I am only rash when I'm safe. I throw caution to the wind when there isn't a breeze" -- Joseph Heller. ANd I don't really want to go down that road again just now...but it is plaguing me. What the hell? Love is my Achilles heel, and I just want to cut the tendon at the source. So much for amor.

 
Woo hoo. Ok, now I can continue. I have been having a fun day - starting early for me, getting a bank account (love the student rate) and then going to work 9-2, and then Kierkegaard and Nietzsche. I need to wind up that paper like a rubber band and let it go like a snowball down the hill making 25,000 snowmen enough for an army wow this is strange poetic drivel so let me stop. Word. I may be off to the biblioteca, tho I want to be back in my bed. My back hurts. I am getting old. Seriously, my back does hurt. Did I injure myself by playing football at 12am? It is quite possible. Why do us philosopher types always play football outside the building? And why at such ungodly hours this time? (It was actually the other night, but whatever.)

"You think you're tired now, but wait until three / Laughing at the Christmas lights...we remember from December (?)"
and
"I don't care if you don't / I won't feel if you don't / and I don't want it if you don't / and I won't say it if you don't say it FIRST!"
- The Cure, "Let's Go to Bed"

 
Posty post post post. Hope this works.

 
So it's Monday morning, and after a ridiculous night of post-work- post-Thanksgiving let me hang out with my friends partying, I am spent. I haven't even been home yet, and although I got some sleep it was that shitty let me look at the clock every hour and wish I was in my own bed kind of sleep. But I will be attending class, rest assured kiddies.

Today's random snippet of conversation comes from some vapid Vanderbilt kids: "The UGLY. They're another race too!""
What the fuck? No comment.

Not much else to report, other than today is the day my brother was 'spawned' 24 years ago. Wah. where does the time go? Tru. Almost time for class.

 
So I decided to post my own, just cuz...yea. The whole dying blog thing isn't nice.

So I'm back back back in Tennessee, which is strange. The weather is very New York, minus the snow. It did actually snow while I was home for a week, which made me happy but not necessarily giddy. It was also a bit colder than my southern ass remembered, as I stepped out of a bar and it was frickin twenty degrees or something ridiculous like that. Ick. I did run into a whole lot of people - that I actually wanted to speak to, which was a bonus and had a good old time.

The rest? Notes reading notes a little writing. Yea, the grad student life. And sleeping. A lot. I watched this Cure dvd which was amazing. I am officially in love with Robert Smith. He may be hotter than Morrissey. Yea, that is big talk, but especially the young Robert Smith a la "Let's Go to Bed" "The Walk" and "Love Cats" oh baby : ) The rest was eating turkey on a bagel and cheesecake! and me going around with my best Ozzy on saying "Shhaaarron! deh da the sorceror's stone!" and laughing hysterically. I didn't care if anyone else thought it was funny - I thought it was damn funny, so I won. I had to call my brother over to me at the airport to say it to him one last time before heading south. ANd him being him, he knew exactly what I was going to say. It's sort of unnerving to know that my brother knows me just that well that he knows exactly what I am going to say. He kicks in the extra 10% as jo jo says = and I spoke to him the other night, which was great. And it is about time that we get together in December...so think about it kiddies!

Word.