submission date

to think for this length of time on ants.

saying: language language language language,

the globular energy before resolution.

get used to it, kid. it’s here to stay.

maybe a trip to the  servo, for chocolate.

maybe another glass of water,

maybe—–

 

cc

it’s like reading a book with half the words blacked out, she said, as if she were pointing to something disappointing. look at the size and shape of his dick, it’s perfect! but what will perfection give us, except the emptiness of arriving. here we are, and there we are not. a t-intersection. everything turns on that. but going back a little. how many books have we read, and thought: if only half the words were blacked out! and the other half? yes, well those too! this half and that half. and all of them. and all those other ones, as well. yes him too, while we’re in the business of it. you call me a nazi and i’ll call you an artsy. the cows will come home with crows on their ears as trophies, but, the book was silly. we got half way there, then we got all the way there. i stuttered. we talked about the difference between stuttering and stammering, and i said: the stammer is from line to line and the stutter takes form by paragraphs. what do you have to back that up, she asked. read the book, i said. read all of them. and after you’re done, i’ll give you the full versions, without the blacked-out sections, and if you ask to keep the full versions,  i’ll eat my words, half a book at a time.

 

entropia

so entropy is just a system of gears, right?

you think you’re getting places faster, or easier, but neither of the two is happening.

 

reader

you wait a week and a half for the course reader. you write off the first week’s class, you finally get to the store with your little ticket in hand, and they tell you: if you look at the ticket, it actually says after 4 pm. that was just about it. i can’t take much more. maybe i’ll just forget the whole goddamned semester and thus, my honours year.

for anyone who didn’t get the memo, tomorrow is the first ever NINJA FOOD DRIVE HOUSEWARMING PARTY at our place. if you don’t know where that is, get in contact. if you don’t know who i am, you’re not invited.

oh, and the winner of the competition was astrid. though cranky’s was tempting.

 

this is the end.

so, i’ve finally finished my last class for semester. that makes fives years study through this institution, though of course one and a half of that was kind of in a different institution, in a far, far away land (not engadine). my first comment is that i’m worried that the kids nowadays don’t seem to go to get drunk and try to pick each other up after the last class anymore. now i didn’t particularly want to pick anyone up, but i did want a beer.

 

non-fiction

things my non-fiction class makes me feel negatively about:
writing, art.
fiction, non-fiction.
people.
myself.
my future, my present.
universities.
speech.
my health.
the state of the country.
politics.
the world.
life.
art.
myself. (repetition for sake of emphasis)

 

regret

i’m really dissociated in my french class. most of what is said in it is inane. but then the one time something interesting was said, a ‘really? i never expected that from you’ kind of moment, and something completely fucked up was said in response, all i did was give a disapproving glare at the offending fuckstick. i spend half my life thinking that i should have told off that little fuckwit over that little remark…

 

jogging with the bourgeoisie

went for a run down to moore park and felt pissed off that i looked like a fucking inner-west yuppie on a health kick. no health kick for me thank you. i abuse and look after my body in equal parts and idiosyncratic ways. that’s why i went to run at the same park at which i found myself wasted at six am sunday morning. in engadine i looked at people with scorn because they looked at me like i was a freak. here sometimes i look at people with scorn because they look at me like we’re friends.