Being in Iowa last week was bliss it really was, I met some amazingly sweet people and now I'm back home and seeing my room again made me feel like I entered another 'present', I guess the term is reality. As in, BACK TO REALITY?! There you go...
Since I might be moving again, I'm going through all my possessions, as usual, trying to whittle down. Alot of my guy friends have barely any possessions in their immaculate rooms, how do they do it!? I haven't even been shopping in months, but I shall not give up. It's just ironic that I've always wanted a room in the attic like this, but now that I have one, I'm really wishing I had four straight walls, instead of one, barely, haha, But it's all a big clutter in my head and I will enjoy life if I know what I own and can use it all instead of letting it sit in unknown places gathering dust and what not...Also got to get back into my hobbies. Since moving here, I may have unpacked my boxes, but my head is still in shambles. FRAGILE!
Quickest List in the West:
- take better care of body
- do your work!
- look for a new job for november.
- trip to cuba
- paul visits toronto
- halloween costume?! wtf?!
Hate to say it but I'm loving Blake Lively, gotta get through the series it's taking over my life. Watched alot of old French Films lately as well as really old Italian ones. Got to read "Things Fall Apart'' but I'm a crazy lazy procrastinating machiiine who can't even clean her room let alone crack open a book, I'm still behind with Woolf and Godot. ARG. That's it...no internet until I'm done...
All Is Vanity,' Saith the Preacher
Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine,
And health and youth possessed me;
My goblets blushed from every vine,
And lovely forms caressed me;
I sunned my heart in beauty' eyes,
And felt my soul grow tender;
All earth can give, or mortal prize,
Was mine of regal splendour.
I strive to number o'er what days
Remembrance can discover,
Which all that life or earth displays
Would lure me to live over.
There rose no day, there rolled no hour
Of pleasure unembittered;
And not a trapping decked my power
That galled not while it glittered.
The serpent of the field, by art
And spells, is won from harming;
But that which soils around the heart,
Oh! who hath power of charming?
It will not list to wisdom's lore,
Nor music's voice can lure it;
But there it stings for evermore
The soul that must endure it.