Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Sunday, November 16, 2008
... and the information about me becomes even more useless
I remember selling my soul for a carton of milk while attending private school.
The scar of a gash set into my left shin still gives me a wincing pain feeling more than 7 years later
With every paper I write I still have the habit to work procrastination into my schedule
I suppose i have always wanted to enjoy a seedy addiction to altoids, but the mint never got its hook set in me
Never will i understand the intricacies of 'bridge' or 'five card stud'
I will conquer my fear of nuance
"You will not kill me 'pe diem'"
All too often I catch myself cutting my nails too short
I love to pour old, skunked beer down bathroom sinks
The scar of a gash set into my left shin still gives me a wincing pain feeling more than 7 years later
With every paper I write I still have the habit to work procrastination into my schedule
I suppose i have always wanted to enjoy a seedy addiction to altoids, but the mint never got its hook set in me
Never will i understand the intricacies of 'bridge' or 'five card stud'
I will conquer my fear of nuance
"You will not kill me 'pe diem'"
All too often I catch myself cutting my nails too short
I love to pour old, skunked beer down bathroom sinks
Continuity?
plus
equals continuity?
I'm getting the feeling I love to crave. Its that desire to push forward in academic works. Currently: writing a research paper for middle eastern politics. The focus is on the comparison and differences between the late Yasir Arafat and the New Palestinian president Mahmoud Abbas. The focus is a bit vague but i might be able to hone it in a little bit. Nevertheless, I am extremely excited to put my words on the the page and see what really comes together.
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