February 28th, 2010 at 7:16 pm
I thrive best, hermit style
“Colorless green ideas sleep furiously” is a sentence composed by Noam Chomsky in 1957 as an example of a sentence with correct grammar (logical form) but semantics which are nonsensical. The sentence therefore has no understandable meaning. An example of a category mistake, it was used to show inadequacy of the then-popular probabilistic models of grammar, and the need for more structured models.
February 23rd, 2010 at 10:26 pm
She can’t feel, she’s no queen!
These tubes are all meta now and my face hurts and nothing ever reads as well as I imagine it to. Forget real self-discipline. They have an app for that. I have been doing fuckall the last couple days other than inundating the Internet with cat pictures and 3AM epiphanies. And bad jokes. Especially bad jokes.
Said I’ll take you, Kathleen. To your home and mine.
February 23rd, 2010 at 9:58 pm
I just want to play checkers
February 19th, 2010 at 9:49 am
IT’S FRIDAY NIGHT!
February 18th, 2010 at 11:31 pm
Anticipation is so much better
February 18th, 2010 at 3:38 pm
Charlene Keys
February 18th, 2010 at 11:52 am
Cryptic Shit
My psyche is public domain. My blog is erect nipples in the freezer section.
Cognitive dissonance is a key term here–thank you intro to psychology–and I’m just going to say that life is a performance. My behavior is a performance, I am playing a character in a teen exploitation film, although I suppose we’re all young adults now, but not the kind that read vampire novels, we’re in the weird in-between stage of drinking soda and renting cars.
Right now, this is crucial. And I will fuck with your rendering of these words.
February 11th, 2010 at 11:14 pm
I’m at the big kids’ table, y’all
I reached an intensified level of comfort expedited by sleep deprivation, cat templates, and all-girl surf rock bands. I reveled in good company and felt significant ‘movie moments’ that made hanging out a more purposeful affair. Every conversation was significant; every word deliberate. I floated along the campus bridges and recalled my difficulty with remembering the difference between ‘indifferent’ and ‘ambivalent,’ resolving that those two words were not adjectives I needed to exercise for a while. Merely smiling, unthinking. Tranquility in my own skin.
Prior to ostensible life-affirming proceedings, I wanted to crawl into a dark corner and retain an air of obscurity, dismissing any moment of intimacy if it meant that I did not also lose enticement.
But now, I’d like to share, share, share <3
February 10th, 2010 at 1:30 am
My name is Ferdinand
I gave my blog a facelift because I decided that although the smiley sun, bunny with propeller hat, and cloudy background accurately represented my tendency towards the ‘retardedly cute,’ I felt that these symbols were incongruous to a lot of my writing. It’s confusing to scroll past convivial illustration only to learn that I think life is shit, man.
For the moment, I say that in jest.
In addition, I’m attempting to create some sort of cohesiveness between my various Internet dwellings. Please note my Tumblr’s color scheme.
I have more stuff (and perhaps, things) to say, but I’m pretty tired and have decided to save my thoughts for tomorrow. Or, I suppose, today, but when it’s like, not 1:30AM.
“I can never have a real conversation with you. You never have ideas, only feelings. That’s not true. There are ideas in feelings.”
February 3rd, 2010 at 12:58 pm
Unhumored
A black man in a gothy trench coat introduced himself to me a few weeks ago in the dining hall. I wasn’t alone, but I was waiting for my friends to join me, and so I grabbed a spot at one of the longer tables. He told me his name was Fate and pulled a chair closer to where I was sitting. Later, I found out that Fate was a moniker, that his name was really David, and that said moniker was inspired by his reading The Art of War by Sun Tzu. He relayed this information to the guy sitting next to me because I suppose my group of girlfriends didn’t seem to be the type of crowd receptive to this sort of knowledge.
A few days later, I took the bus downtown so I could buy groceries at Trader Joe’s. I chose the shortest check-out line, but soon realized that it was short because the cashier was especially chatty and especially chatty cashiers are not something most people are comfortable with. He asked me what my major was, to which I replied film. He told me that he was a literature major and that all of his fellow lit majors weren’t pursuing writing careers now that they were out of school. He recited a Chinese proverb, something along the lines of the key to achieving something is to start and continue. He said that if a musician was really intent on making music his career, he’d have to be famous after 80 years of ‘keeping on’ regardless of talent.
There are a few ways I could steer these experiences; this retelling of them. I could lament my uncomfortable position in social interactions with strangers, offer an overarching theme of Chinese philosophies, or invalidate my previous distaste of humanity by reflecting on why these little occurrences, albeit ridiculous, force me to reevaluate my perception of the world. Or I could say it’s irrelevant and continue focusing on the here and now.