who are these children that scheme and run wild

dear:

i wish i could find some words left in my chest that i hadn't already dedicated to preservation in my flailing undergraduate thesis, alas i must save what i have.

i just spent all day creating a whole load of crap that is the essay i will hand in to my really lovely professor of that Aristotle course. really. really really, i would've loved to have done a good job, to have been to ponder for three days, but instead i crammed it all into one and quoted too many times instead of coming up with anything of my own. fuck it. now i am where i came this morning at 9 (the GIC, obvs) and stayed minus the time it took for me to see an adviser and hear about how i maaaaay not be able to graduate in may (i'm choosing to forget about this possibility for now), about to embark upon more writwritwriting, this time for the ole' dissertation, which looks highly inviting in comparison to the babbling litter i spewed all day on art imitating nature where a table was art and i was nature. nevermind. anyways. what? oh yeah, i spilled cold coffee all over my leg when my phone vibrated with a distracting text message. so i stink like that. and i'm going to be here for so long. and i'm hungry and want to eat akua's chili.

oops, look at all those letters i meant to keep to myself. i am right screwed now.

okay, anyways. i'm going fucking wild over maureen gubia. i like looking at the sketchbooks of people who can actually draw i pretend that's what i see when i look at the pages and pages and pages of words and eyeballs that fill my own notebooks.

i feel like swearing. my teeth keep coming to rest on my bottom lip.

dudes, i just realized she lives in guayaquil. oh my nostalgic bones! they ache and shake and make my heart quiver with all the intercostal vibrations.

it's funny actually (apparently i'm not done here), now that i know this i sort of see some guayasamin in the form (substance?) (all day with Aristotle) of some of her pieces. i wonder what it means to say guayasamin to an ecuadorian artist. i'm so new.

k, piece peace (maybe i could use a little bill to quiet me down)

(no, i think i just want to go home and play the piano)(i miss my piano!)(maybe i'll go home for easter)(need to have a real conversation with somebody)(stop procrastinating!)(shhh)