s.u.l.k.
is what i'm doing right now. i won't go into details why, because even as i sit here with my lower lip pursed out as far as it can go, a little voice in my head is saying that yet again i'm blowing things out of proportion, and these extra wrinkles that i'm helping my face to grow are so not worth it. but just for the heck of it may i just scream out into the web that i DIDN'T KNOW!! fucktard.
anyway. i'm getting sick. again. i just don't get what my body is trying to tell me. i usually am the picture of health and before this year the last time i was sick was years ago. now i've been sick almost every other month. it sucks like a lamprey.
up point, though, is that i managed to finish mapping out my site. progress is being made, folks. excruciatingly slow, but progress nonetheless.
and i've just started on the Journals of Sylvia Plath and Baudelaird's prosified poems. so don't blame me if i get quotatious on you because if Baudelaird's not the most quotable guy on the planet i don't know who is. that is if you're in as dark a mood as i am. dark. and gloomy. just waiting for an excuse to throw a tantrum. or creating one. a proper full-out tantrum. with tree-pulling, and vase-throwing, and table-over-turning, and pillow-pulling-aparting.
so go on. piss me off.
anyway. i'm getting sick. again. i just don't get what my body is trying to tell me. i usually am the picture of health and before this year the last time i was sick was years ago. now i've been sick almost every other month. it sucks like a lamprey.
up point, though, is that i managed to finish mapping out my site. progress is being made, folks. excruciatingly slow, but progress nonetheless.
and i've just started on the Journals of Sylvia Plath and Baudelaird's prosified poems. so don't blame me if i get quotatious on you because if Baudelaird's not the most quotable guy on the planet i don't know who is. that is if you're in as dark a mood as i am. dark. and gloomy. just waiting for an excuse to throw a tantrum. or creating one. a proper full-out tantrum. with tree-pulling, and vase-throwing, and table-over-turning, and pillow-pulling-aparting.
so go on. piss me off.
posted by nu. at 12:18 pm
3 Comments:
Sylvia Plath, Virginia Woolf, and Anne Sexton are three of my favorite authors. I happen to be fond of women writers who committed suicide. Is that bad?
Hunney, go to the nearest pharmacy and ask for the NIGHT NURSE. No kidding, it does wonders, just like the name. Take it just at nite and you'll be fine in no time.
Pity they dont have it here, but when I was having some viral infection-flu thingy, the doctors couldnt help me no more, but the Night Nurse took GOOD care of me.
The best REMEDY in town!
e.m.: i think it is ay-okay. i, myself, am lover of angst. lately anyway.
w.f.: sounds like a good idea. does it come with actual nurse? haha
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