compton

Lasting thoughts from my last religion class..."we do not know how a tree 'trees'?" it's all sooooooo subjective. nothing is objective because we rely on human experience in order to interpret the material world. therefore we cannot know how what a tree is supposed to do. and then my brain went wahhh

postmodernity makes everything so complicated, of course that is relative to its subject...
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it's my birthday and there's a ballon by my age...

A long silent trip to mighigan can leave you with a lot to think about, luckily you can think during that time.

I now have an enlarger, paid for with gas, time, and denials.

Two weeks and finals are over...i can't wait...

Everything is catching up with me
I awake to find I'm not at all where I should be
And it feels I'm getting to the end
And it's hard to figure out what's real and what's pretend

To break from what we're tied to
God knows how much I've Tried to
And I am still inside you

I escape every now and then
And to...
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It is 4 oclock, the last afternoon, early evening, or simply the time that is clocked by your 3 hours awake. The majority of it has been spent at a desk filled with post-it notes of things you have to do, but what you do instead is write several papers that are postmarked over due for this weeks classes. The computer is your illumination in...
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Long is the way
And hard, that out of hell leads up to light.

I ran to the beach.
It was long.
I ran back.

It is strange, being in the same place I was once 2 years ago (and having no idea this is where Id end up).
So much has changed that the life I had then barely resembles the one I have now.
Almost every single aspect of my exterior living, down to my inner core...
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there are things that i said i would never do
there are fears that i cannot believe have come true
for my soul is too sick and too little and too late
and my self i have grown too weary to hate

the more i stay in here
the more it's not so clear
the more i stay in here
the more i disappear
as...
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she is the one
who said "fun"
sounded like a word
of German origin
she thought too much
like me
our time together
like summer
(concentration)
camp
emaciated possibilities
lie lifeless
o, this intellect burns

the crematoruim below my nose
keeps life above my ears

silence is the star
that i shall wear
to mark my difference
yet we have so much in common
tonight...
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