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go to sleep, little earth
I do hate to nap; short bursts of sleep leave me groggy, nauseated, confused, unreal, and I do not like that. But I have not slept well and I've found myself dropping off with alarming frequency at various points in the day when I'm trying to do simple things like study Keats. And then I can't sleep at night because I've napped and then the same thing happens the next day and it's a vicious, vicious cycle.
Today I spent a relaxing five hours writing a paper on Shelley and Keats and skylarks and nightingales, in a happy little zone-space in my head, the part that loves loves loves being an English major and could, truly, shamefully, babble happily about poetry for endless, endless hours, deconstructing those precise structures of words, extracting shades of meaing, finding connections in the most unexpected things. I wrote it all in the computer lab in the library because I was, technically, manning the microfilm desk, but no one ever wants help at microfilm on Saturdays. It was a strange thing, that unfamiliar writing environment, the loud clacketyclacking of a dozen computer keyboards all at once, frenetic stressed thoughts zinging about the room and crashing together in a subcosmic collision of sorts.
So I wrote that, and turned it in, and retired to my room to read Keats with studious glee, and eventually fell asleep. I woke, utterly confused, at nine-thirty, and fled to the library to regain my bearings and read non-academic things. The Feast of Love I have been reading slowly, and it is lovely, I want to mold the characters into clay and breathe them into life and make them my world. It is charming and sad and it hurts, and it makes me laugh, and I know, halfway through, I will have to buy it. I am buying too many books lately. It is my current compulsion.
Walking home from the library the stars were achingly bright, and near. Orion led the way, my lucky hunter, and I smiled through the incising cold. Frost glittered on the grass and I was paralyzed for a moment in the dark, at how beautiful the night can be, how cold and how terrifying and how beautiful.
Sleep. Sleep.
Today I spent a relaxing five hours writing a paper on Shelley and Keats and skylarks and nightingales, in a happy little zone-space in my head, the part that loves loves loves being an English major and could, truly, shamefully, babble happily about poetry for endless, endless hours, deconstructing those precise structures of words, extracting shades of meaing, finding connections in the most unexpected things. I wrote it all in the computer lab in the library because I was, technically, manning the microfilm desk, but no one ever wants help at microfilm on Saturdays. It was a strange thing, that unfamiliar writing environment, the loud clacketyclacking of a dozen computer keyboards all at once, frenetic stressed thoughts zinging about the room and crashing together in a subcosmic collision of sorts.
So I wrote that, and turned it in, and retired to my room to read Keats with studious glee, and eventually fell asleep. I woke, utterly confused, at nine-thirty, and fled to the library to regain my bearings and read non-academic things. The Feast of Love I have been reading slowly, and it is lovely, I want to mold the characters into clay and breathe them into life and make them my world. It is charming and sad and it hurts, and it makes me laugh, and I know, halfway through, I will have to buy it. I am buying too many books lately. It is my current compulsion.
Walking home from the library the stars were achingly bright, and near. Orion led the way, my lucky hunter, and I smiled through the incising cold. Frost glittered on the grass and I was paralyzed for a moment in the dark, at how beautiful the night can be, how cold and how terrifying and how beautiful.
Sleep. Sleep.
no subject
I had my first experience with writing in computer labs this fall! I like it. It keeps me motivated and less distracted...well at least sometimes. I mean everyone else in there looks so productive, I can't help wanting to keep up with them.
Anyway, I am also asking for your new address because I have something to send to you! So you better get it to me! I have already written an e-mail and called, but I thought this might be a good way to get a hold of you since so far those attempts have failed!
Okay bye for now!
Love Lots,
tainted_love
no subject
anyway i'd write you a real letter but i'm being timed.
i just had to tell you that we had tea at the kensington palace orangery today, adn in the garden outside we were ALMOST attacked by squirrels. i mean, one came over very close, begging for food. it was cute i say, but a little odd. it followed us when we walked away and others came along too. my friend kicked one away, and still it kept lookig at us, pleading, coming very close. it was great- you have freaked out i think. it was really funny. :)