May 17, 2006

like a literary Travis Bickle

i am so horribly mutable. anything i read strikes through me like a lance and i'm left even thinking in the words of the author. this, more than anything, is why i tend to read so very much meaningless crap - i'm much less susceptible to its mediocre influences. unfortunately, tonight, i picked up lady chatterly's lover, determined, finally, to put a positive dent in it. the mood is all depressed rejection of humanity and wistful lonliness. now, i am a cynic when it comes to people, a coward when it comes to love, and a depressive when it comes to la, but all in small quantities, which are sadly amplified by the malaise of the title character. i feel like sighing and languishing quietly somewhere, or else running out into the night to visit a planter of jasmine - all in full bloom - that i noticed on campus today. (fact: jasmine smells best at night.) best i just go to bed, though, not let it get to me. the pre-dawn songbirds are just beginning to go nuts.

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