This is your surgeon... on laudanum.

New year's day is a good time to make the last post here. Over summer break i will read much Patrick O'Brian and, i hope, somehow become a considerably less awful person. Rereading the previous sentence i am impressed by the implied causality.

Really; the year is not very old yet and already such sadness(es). Why. I cope and then i can't cope and be like an awful person which adds to sadness; i cannot even work which takes away from the little i have (left).

So here is my fist coming down on the table with a business-like thump. Enough! it says. Enough.

at times, your disinterestedness may seem insincere, to strangers

shite, i'm reading six books, this is the life!

note to self, never take blank verse for granted.
i have wise professors.

i need summer clothes but i can't be arsed to go shopping.

i'm looking for frank o'hara.
the new york school has saved my life.

i have nothing to say except the following. bebo valdés is an excellent musician and anybody reading this should drop everything to go listen to him.

ddgdgdgddgdgdgdgdgd;;;;;;;;dgdgdgdhhdddg;;

sudden urge to see 'jurassic park'.

fact: i still like dinosaurs.

today was good. very good. yes.

people who put their hands between their thighs when it's cold;
people who put their hands under their armpits;
people who rub their hands together;
people who hold the rhythm for the first four measures using their fists and their knees;
people who count your pulse;
people who cup their palms behind their ears;
people who light cigarettes (once, twice, thrice);
people without fingerprints;
people without fingernails;
people who put their hands on your back and push (the softer the harder);
people who put their hands around your feet and pull (harder)