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my mind is torn, my body smelly

trolling for mp3s of obscure early 90s dance music to keep me awake, and trying to put off eating the reese peanut butter cups until i'm in desperate need of the sugar... yes, it's yet another all-nighter for an overdue term paper.

panic reigns supreme, though in my head it somehow translates to: "yes, you really need to find that armand van helden remix of that janet jackson song even though it might just be a rumour..." and "i should really check my email just in case someone sent me something since i checked it last... five minutes ago".

welcome to tuesday morning. paper due last friday, an empty page lies in front of me, begging to be covered by an interpretation of a derrida essay i barely understand. the ability to be concise is a cruel gift when it comes to long and boring academic papers, but somehow it takes a vacation when it comes to wasting time like this. death by irony.

i used to work well under pressure, but with two more papers and two more tests looming ahead within less than two weeks of NOW, the pressure is turning me into a rotting vegetable.

and i do mean ROTTING.

the choices ahead of me are so confusing that i've chosen to do nothing. i can either start writing this cursed (curs-ed she shouted, with a flourish of the hand and eyes rrrrolling snottily...) paper, but i'm too tired and smelly. i don't have the time to sleep. i would take a shower, which would be useful since it's been so long i forget what soap looks like, but the shower is so grimy pig-pen from peanuts could go in and come out worse... so i could clean the shower, which would make me more tired, more smelly, and inhaling cleaning chemicals won't help when it comes to writing a philosophy paper, despite the pot-head-acid-trippy reputation of philosophy majors. a wide array of useful choices...

yet somehow i have this strange yen to draw a twisted little character from powerpuff girls (sedusa?!), draw her a wide range of cut-out couture outfits, and dump her in my imaginary land of FRIPPIGONIA where she becomes dictator and i spend the rest of my life describing her psychological profile in microscopic detail, slowly deteriorating into a bug-eyed, radiation-soaked freak permanently stuck to this chair in front of my computer, increasingly smelly with a shower more distant and with more freakish wildlife than narnia...

Discuss this Journal entry [4]

Latest reply: Mar 7, 2000

the popularity of pain

constant complaints about the pain of life
surround me at every turn.
pain is the reality of life.
and not in a depressing existential-responsibility kind of way.
you only know you're alive through the pain it brings, through hurt of all kinds.

"pinch me, i MUST be dreaming"

songs of hurt and misery.

pain is popular.

the cheerful people always inspire wonder
"how are they so happy???"

maybe i should stop listening to the cure.

Discuss this Journal entry [1]

Latest reply: Mar 2, 2000

maybe she's just looking for someone to dance with?

minutes, hours... buzzing by like a bee on speed.
and my head is blank, at least in terms of anything
useful.

then again, is anything useful?

subjectivity is a miserable creature. it can make the
useless useful, or at least interesting. making a mud
puddle of human thought -- and if one day the world is
so full it can only hold our brains, what a mess that
would be...

then there's emma, the stickly cartoon in my head, knocking,
patiently waiting to be let out, tapping her little striped-
stocking-covered feet rhythmically, her own thoughts wandering
within my own. i don't know who's more of a wreck, her or
me?

Discuss this Journal entry [4]

Latest reply: Mar 2, 2000


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