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Narco
26 January 2009 @ 02:03 pm
Now that I've made myself tipsy enough so that my fingers feel like they're floating on the keys, I think,
and this is something I never questioned before, though the answer may be obvious (being "duh")...
well, the question is "Why do I need to get a little (to very) drunk to start writing?"

This came forth because of a conversation that upset me earlier.

And, now that I am (dizzy drunk), I understand why.

I'm too self conscious to begin.

When tackling a new subject... something I have a slight (to severe) difficulty writing about, I feel like any first lines, though always re-worked in the future, are CRAP.
And this is possibly one of my most problematic impediments (of a few).
I'm very insecure when it comes to academical matters.

I'm consciously aware that I have no reason to be.
But I am entitled to my neuroses.



I need to write out my thesis proposal.
So that I can write my thesis.
Which is a study of 3 "manifestos."

Shelley's "A Defence of Poetry."
"Modern Giants" from The Germ.
"Manifesto" from Blast.

And what now?
Fill a page with dizzy lines that will make it so much easier for me when sober.
Because I am, and sad as this may seem, most enlightened when I don't care.


Even drunker now... I recall the first time I ever had an open conversation that was a structuralist analysis of everything that surrounded me and my friends... my eyes were closed and I couldn't stand up.

What many people don't understand, and this goes beyond justification,
though I don't expect anyone to ever understand,
is that I have extreme difficulty accessing thoughts at times.
They need to be brought to light so that I can talk about them.
I could call it a disability. It happens to me.
There's depressed drunks. Obnoxious drunks.
I'm an intellectual drunk.
 
 
Current Mood: busy
Current Music: Robots In Disguise - I'm Hit
 
 
Narco
17 December 2008 @ 03:03 am
Immersed in pure transcendentalism tonight (yes, I am still working on that paper), and listening to Tiamat's new album, I'm really enjoying this song.
It makes me smile.


Circles

And now that we're dead
We've learned how to live
Our failures taught us how to forgive
And now that we've risen
from the ashes of me and you
All our dreams shall come true

Floating in circles
Stars shine a light our way
To meadows and fields, green as the grass
Where we lay down
Forever...

And now that we're clean
Our souls can be free
Our love is the only drug we need
And now that we're one
We don't need any God
Divinity flows in our blood

Floating in circles
Stars shine a light our way
To meadows and fields, green as the grass
Where we lay down
Forever...
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Current Mood: tired
Current Music: Tiamat - Circles
 
 
Narco
12 December 2008 @ 09:50 pm
Don't remember what kind of fish he is, I bought him as soon as he came into the petshop.

He has yet to acquire his name.




I <3 him.
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Current Mood: busy
Current Music: Poesie Noire - Love Is Colder Than Death
 
 
Narco
04 December 2008 @ 10:57 am
I decided not to make all entries in this journal from now on friends only because... it's all mostly crap anyway.

These are some pictures I took with [info]dead_eifersucht on Monday of some of the "street art" around the libraries in Río Piedras.
I use quotations because some of the libraries, I suppose, asked artists to draw paint whatever on them because apparently, the walls are more respected that way by other graffiti artists and vandals.

I really like (artistic) graffiti and wish I could take photos, but most of the time when I see some I like, I'm inside a moving vehicle and can't take proper pictures.
I had some photos from UPR graffiti when the theater was still being reconstructed, and even some as it was being painted and drawn on with sharpies.

Anyway, here's a few.

Photobucket

+ )
 
 
Current Mood: busy
Current Music: Spin Provider - SOB
 
 
Narco
26 November 2008 @ 08:41 am
lulz  

I'm in my mom's office looking for random things on gutenberg.org  because I have nothing better to do.
I don't remember coming across this before, but sort of.
It's making me giggle out loud, I thought I'd share a few definitions from The Devil's Dictionary.


ACCORD, n. Harmony.

ACCORDION, n. An instrument in harmony with the sentiments of an assassin.

ACQUAINTANCE, n. A person whom we know well enough to borrow from, but not well enough to lend to. A degree of friendship called slight when its object is poor or obscure, and intimate when he is rich or famous.

ADAMANT, n. A mineral frequently found beneath a corset. Soluble in solicitate of gold.

ADHERENT, n. A follower who has not yet obtained all that he expects to get.

ADVICE, n. The smallest current coin.

ALONE, adj. In bad company.

APPLAUSE, n. The echo of a platitude.

ARMOR, n. The kind of clothing worn by a man whose tailor is a blacksmith.

BACCHUS, n. A convenient deity invented by the ancients as an excuse for getting drunk.

BACK, n. That part of your friend which it is your privilege to contemplate in your adversity.

BATH, n. A kind of mystic ceremony substituted for religious worship, with what spiritual efficacy has not been determined.

BEG, v. To ask for something with an earnestness proportioned to the belief that it will not be given.

BIGOT, n. One who is obstinately and zealously attached to an opinion that you do not entertain.

BORE, n. A person who talks when you wish him to listen.

BRANDY, n. A cordial composed of one part thunder-and-lightning, one part remorse, two parts bloody murder, one part death-hell-and-the grave and four parts clarified Satan. Dose, a headful all the time. Brandy is said by Dr. Johnson to be the drink of heroes. Only a hero will venture to drink it.

BRIDE, n. A woman with a fine prospect of happiness behind her.

CABBAGE, n. A familiar kitchen-garden vegetable about as large and wise as a man's head.

CANNIBAL, n. A gastronome of the old school who preserves the simple tastes and adheres to the natural diet of the pre-pork period.

CAT, n. A soft, indestructible automaton provided by nature to be kicked when things go wrong in the domestic circle.

CAVILER, n. A critic of our own work.

CIRCUS, n. A place where horses, ponies and elephants are permitted to see men, women and children acting the fool.

COMFORT, n. A state of mind produced by contemplation of a neighbor's uneasiness.



I gotta go.
If you enjoy this, you should click.
 

 
 
Current Location: my mom's office, UPR H
Current Mood: bored yet amused
 
 
Narco
15 November 2008 @ 06:25 pm
I finally finished this.



For [info]losemeontheway.
 
 
Current Mood: blah
 
 
Narco
22 July 2007 @ 07:17 pm
Litterae non dant panem.
"Literature does not earn bread."

Latin proverb.
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Current Mood: optimistic
Current Music: Akanoid - Usual Freak
 
 
 
 

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