Reality in itself means nothing. The world is an interpretation.

Heave mother

Eternity is bitter pound

Weak you are

As moon to sky

Death is staring…

Time to wake up with muscles aching from the overdose of lactate produced from a night of moshing and partying, and to find broken fridge-word-magnets poetry assembled intoxicatingly in all randomness on the refrigerator door…

Naked love boils meat like a frantically manipulating sausage.

It's been a hectic week. Moving, 6 hour lab, assignments, readings, volunteering, gallery hopping, AIDS coalition meetings, adding one body to lecture halls and now frantically writing for Le Délit. And yes, there will be blogging ie. venting.

Quotable quote: "Celui qui ne connaît pas de langue étrangère, ne sait rien de la sienne"-Goethe.


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