about a week ago, one of my professors recommended that i make use of the school's counselors (i.e. "therapy") because i have no friends and i had burst into tears in his office for the third time this semester and not done my conference work.
i love the fact that the word “hysteria” diagnoses the condition of a wandering womb.when i get all panicky i love to think that it is because my womb has become detached and is wandering.i embrace it.
i'm sure there's a more blog-chic way than youtube to make you listen to a song, but i'm kind of F.U.C.K.E.D. on my conference work and fucking hating school okay, so just listen to the velvet underground and goth lady music and stop reading my blog, because i'm going to do all of the above and i have to stay up all night and go to work at 7:45 a.m.
so that's how the world works and i believe it's called unrequited when i pine for the boy, that boy, that, him, you, yes, you, look at me, dream about me, talk to me someday, promise?ok. actually it's called a crush and i'm twenty i should be over crushing on people. i should just go straight to dating them or fucking them or killing them because vampiric relationships are hip now right, lovely bloodsucker. lovely invincible werewolf babe, it's getting colder and i'm getting older and like really really cold, but not because that's just like a contact-california speaking, rubbing off.
like ikea. like abba. like strindberg.
like jake barnes. like the cubs. like corn and soybeans.
1/8 swedish and first generation midwestern. i don't belong hrrrrr.
and for a lot of us, a concentrated, simple, clean, easy, and unfun place to screw up is college.
we waste our parents' money. and our own. and our time.
and at 2 in the morning,
my orange tea tastes bitter. and i've stopped making any headway on my studies. not that i have for a while. i'm nailed to my
real laquered wood
college common room chair.
a little box.
in these last two and a half weeks i'm pushing towards blindness.
cause of blindness: macbook.
cause of macbook: college.
cause of college:
isn't it funny how i'm still the same person i was at seventeen?
and now i'm twenty.
(and as far as i can tell, twenty is the birthday that people give you a lot of sugarfood.)
and i still don't believe in college. and i still don't believe that this waltz of study and sleepless and macbook and blog is what i want to do.
i would like to find, when i wake up, that thursday was taken out of the week.
so i might be spared the hassle of crying in my professor's office and recovering from crying in my professor's office and writing a shitty essay and going to rehearsal and pool-staring and attempting to justify a badly edited video as art....i just want to be in chicago. i just want to go to a state school. join the swim team. get a lobotomy. forget how to ride a bike. ride a bike. tour the midwest. and amsterdam. hide my eyelids in a jawbone when the sun turns to rainbows through smog and airbourne shit. it's fair.
what feels unfair,
is that my name can get spread around like herpes.
from my professor
to my don
to the dean
all because of a bad evaluation.
there's a boy i never want to be like and some moments i'm afraid i might get expelled for the same root cause that he got expelled for.
must not be an emotional wreck.
think of irene.
keep the dead dead.
when we dead awaken, cannot, will not should not happen.
no more weeping in the bathroom,
looking at your hunched figure warped in the reflection of the sink's pipes.
this is where the water happens. how fortunate we are, that water happens.
i was told i have a future today. in a place/area that i become farther removed from daily.
excuse me, hi, yes, i have a number, will call, may i please pick up my future. just tell it to me straight.
do i make it through thursday?
may i go to art school now? is it my turn to live in brooklyn? or the lower east side? does participation count for anything?