thursday april 19 2002    |   

there is history in this place / there are dragons to be chased / and though i don't know who you are / an easy flow and a strong / a strong heart / and a charm in the way you hide / gently take my skull for a ride

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today is another day when i'm better off at home. that is, in my book-cluttered, album-strewn little cave (safe haven) of a dorm room. most everything can be taken care of through e-mail anyway. and nothing outside is really worth hurrying over. ever. my friends wonder or complain about this sometimes, that i always keep them waiting when we're on our way out to the cafeteria or the whatever. and i guess this is my answer: it's really not worth hurrying over. i'd rather listen to the last few minutes of an album or stare at the pictures on my wall. i don't know if any of you have read closer by dennis cooper (it's kind of a hectic little book, unpleasant, but great) -- a lot of the time i feel like george, sitting in his room tripping and looking at his disney-animal posters and thinking thinking. and staring. and thinking. (the difference being, i suppose, that i don't trip or have disney-animal posters on my walls, but that's just circumstantial.)

if you were looking for a happy diary, might i suggest you try names at random like "teenybop." or click on profile links for barenaked ladies and self-help books. i don't know. that's going to bring me some random unnecessary google hits, isn't it.

so my body is turning subversive on me again. i'm incubating some sort of allergic reaction to something. i need to go get some benadryl already.

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and i don't know who you are / but i know what i would like you to be / a one-night stand under stoned persuasion / but a joy that i can't hide / gently take my skull for a ride

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last night in seminar it was still daylight out while the presentation group was showing film clips, and so they made us lower the blinds over the windows. so poor seminarboy had to comply. he spends these classes looking out the window mostly, in a way that suggests he's thinking important thoughts and would rather be anywhere but there, like he envies the trees and the stone facades of buildings because they're outside. but last night he had to resign himself to doodling in his notebook. i could see the doodles framing a couple of lines of disinterested notes: big blue-ink picture splotches. (maybe this is part of the problem: i find the habits of seminarboy much more interesting than whatever cowboy-hat-roger has to say about positive messages in an 80s sci-fi chinese film. and not just because it's seminarboy, mind, but because there's obviously something going on in his head that's more pressing, more worthwhile, than whatever else is happening in the classroom at large. even if that something is pure boredom.)

so i spent my time transcribing poems from memory onto my notebook, surrounding them with a mess of star and circle and box doodles, and sideways-glancing at seminarboy and his goings-on.

after class he took a while to pack up his bag, and fumble with his jacket, and put it on, and we ended up leaving at the same time. (probably a coincidence, as much as my silly little brain insists on throwing hints at me.) we smiled at each other and alternated opening doors and walked together through ascension and outside. i wanted to talk to him but i couldn't think of anything to say. and so once outside we went our separate ways.

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julie stole the fratboys' big yellow plastic baseball bat sometime last week when it was still warm, and brought it to my room as an offering of sorts. (on nice-weather afternoons, anywhere between 3:30 and 4:00, the fratboys housed in my building will go outside and hit baseballs and yell loud obnoxious things and play loud obnoxious music like kid rock or dmx until fratboy dinnertime at 5:30 or 6:00. needless to say i don't like this.) so i've been holding it hostage in my room, and the fratboys haven't been back out to play. now i use it to bang on the ceiling when they have loud obnoxious fratboy meetings in the lounges upstairs. sweet revenge!

as always, back to lou, the beloved:

kindly take my arm / give me all you are / gently take your skull for a ride