The shortest day
Today's the shortest day of the year. And I know I haven't posted in ages but its been rather slow here with everyone gone, and I've been really sick and typing requires an awful amount of thought and focus. Right now my typing speed is about cut in half, its frustrating, because research goes much faster when I can type faster!
Coherence is another thing that is all too quickly gone, I'm sorry for that as well. Basically I'm writing now because if I leave this a week I might not ever start again. And I'm leaving on Thursday to spend Christmas with my aunt, so I want to at least post a bit before I leave. Will try to update properly when I'm feeling better, hopefully that will be tomorrow.
I'd been feeling rather poetic on the bus to and from London, but its all gone now, somehow it won't stay until I can get my hands to letters. Ah well, maybe that's why I'm not a poet. But its been more of the Shins, more of my obsessive crazies, more thoughts of the children and potential visits from friends. JJ speaks of coming out, and I wonder if he will, we could both use the vacation from our respective lives, but I doubt my abilities to properly host someone here, having no couch, little time, and Oxford being rather small. All will work itself out.
I snoozed for an hour today, despite what Cat said about sleep, getting up and coping mechanisms. I know, from my experience in the last two days, that no matter what I try, I won't get to the library before 11:30. Okay, since I have nothing more to say, I think I'm going to throw in some more lyrics.
Coherence is another thing that is all too quickly gone, I'm sorry for that as well. Basically I'm writing now because if I leave this a week I might not ever start again. And I'm leaving on Thursday to spend Christmas with my aunt, so I want to at least post a bit before I leave. Will try to update properly when I'm feeling better, hopefully that will be tomorrow.
I'd been feeling rather poetic on the bus to and from London, but its all gone now, somehow it won't stay until I can get my hands to letters. Ah well, maybe that's why I'm not a poet. But its been more of the Shins, more of my obsessive crazies, more thoughts of the children and potential visits from friends. JJ speaks of coming out, and I wonder if he will, we could both use the vacation from our respective lives, but I doubt my abilities to properly host someone here, having no couch, little time, and Oxford being rather small. All will work itself out.
I snoozed for an hour today, despite what Cat said about sleep, getting up and coping mechanisms. I know, from my experience in the last two days, that no matter what I try, I won't get to the library before 11:30. Okay, since I have nothing more to say, I think I'm going to throw in some more lyrics.
girl inform me all my senses warn me
your clever eyes could easily disguise
some backwards purpose
it's enough to make me nervous.
do you harbor sighs, or spit in my eye
your clever eyes could easily disguise
some backwards purpose
it's enough to make me nervous.
do you harbor sighs, or spit in my eye
but your lips when we speak
are the valleys and peaks of a mountain range on fire.
so let me walk these coals till you believe
i can cut the mustard well enough
cause you know as soon as breathe we scrutinize
unknown quotients, you must be using potions
how else could you tie my head to the sky
this new convection has left me wondering why
i can't concern myself with ordinary tripe.
like what's this morning's paper got to say
and which brand of coffee to make
this is no umbrella to take into the wind
and before we begin is there nothing to kill this anxiety.
but your lips when we speak
are the valleys and peaks of a mountain range on fire.
so let me walk these coals till you believe
i can cut the mustard well enough
cause you know as soon as breathe we scrutinize
the paint away.
are the valleys and peaks of a mountain range on fire.
so let me walk these coals till you believe
i can cut the mustard well enough
cause you know as soon as breathe we scrutinize
unknown quotients, you must be using potions
how else could you tie my head to the sky
this new convection has left me wondering why
i can't concern myself with ordinary tripe.
like what's this morning's paper got to say
and which brand of coffee to make
this is no umbrella to take into the wind
and before we begin is there nothing to kill this anxiety.
but your lips when we speak
are the valleys and peaks of a mountain range on fire.
so let me walk these coals till you believe
i can cut the mustard well enough
cause you know as soon as breathe we scrutinize
the paint away.
The Shins, Girl Inform Me
posted by Care | 9:39 AM
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