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[Friday
August 6th, 2010 @ 9:51am]
The thought that was crossing Louise’s mind wasn’t pretty. If anything, it was vicious and slimy. Like a worm had been living inside her heart, absorbing all her fury and hatred as it sleeps and dreams, until now when it suddenly, unexpectedly awoke. After twenty-six years of nightmares well-fed by Lou’s emotional digestion, the worm was ready to release it all back into the world through her body – like a chemical injection without attracting any attention. What exactly and when this was going to happen felt as clear as a balcony – no glass illusions separating the inside and the outside – but how to distinguish the things she felt and the things the worm festered wasn’t so visible to Lou who was about to take a step in one direction or the other.
fell in love again (all things go)

[Friday
March 13th, 2009 @ 2:38pm]
This is what I'm listen to while trying to apply Mulvey's call for the destruction of pleasure in cinema to one of my fav films, Annie Hall, out of a vapid masochistic need to prove wrong the writings of any theory club. More importantly:

Girl 1: "I have my Facebook language set to French. How pretentious is that?"
Girl 2: "Oh, do you know French?"
Girl 1: "Well, I can speak it... but I can't really hear it. You know? Like if I'm watching a French movie with subtitles, I can definitely, like, imagine the words."
Girl 2: "Yeah, totally."

Like if I'm watching you speak, I can definitely, like, imagine what you mean. Oh wait no.

shit

It's like she speaks imaginary french.
I think it would have been funny if a french person turned around and cussed her out and then was all "could you like, totally, imagine what I just called you?"

Also, my fellow major was recently in a vicious fight with a philosopher in a case of major elitism. Calling philosophy a bunch of "wispy, ephemeral arguments" and english as "hard textual analysis," I felt the need to step in and claim that really, "hard textual analysis" is just as much pseudo-intellectual dreck at an undergraduate level as philosophy is in its entire existence.

I like livejournal, it is very nonjudgemental. Unlike that blogger bitch.
fell in love again (all things go)

[Friday
March 13th, 2009 @ 1:54am]
when the culture you wish to critique commodifies all critique, you write a novel critiquing the commodification of critique, even as it critiques the very notion of critiquing the commodification of critique.

a beautiful sentence?
or have i just been writing too long and re-reading too much derrida and baudrillard for this essay to know how to write not convoluted summaries. writing multiple essays late at night makes me lonely. i remembered that i use to go on eljay when i got lonely.

my back hurts.

also, i want everyone to know that i am very, very stupid. Way too illiterate to be in english. Yes, i am definitely too simple for my major. I forget what aporia means with words, but I reach one on a daily basis these days. The table that holds my laptop and my mugs of green tea is covered with torn-out pages from various spiral-bound notes and I have no idea which colour pens refer to which paragraphs to which essay. Ladeda. This is my recourse to livejournal.

but that's what summer is for: i plan on staying in kingston and reading by the lake and writing in sleepless goat cafe and developing my sudden inferiority complex of second year into a well-earned, well-mannered superiority complex in time for third year. Then I can write for Diatribe. hopefully the keeners will take this summer off.

it would be nice if I knew the art of articulation in speech and dialogue as well as I do in essay and prose.

also, I think i might name my first-born DeLillo.

does anybody still use this?
1 fell in love again (all things go)

[Thursday
August 21st, 2008 @ 8:56pm]
Never, ever, ever, EVER sign any contracts with Rogers Wireless.

Out of the three months I've been with them, they've fucked up my phone bill three times. Out of the two times I picked a plan/changed plans, they've fucked up which plan I picked both times.

Seriously, how hard can it be for a multi-billionaire company who owns St. Michael's Hospital, all 911 calls in Toronto, all ambulances, and has probably continued to secretly buy out every other public service in Canada slowly but steadily, to get a better fucking website, quicker customer service when they've fucked up, and the correct billing information. Rich-ass scrouges. Hate. Hate. Hate.
fell in love again (all things go)

[Sunday
August 17th, 2008 @ 2:48pm]
[ mood | i want coffee ]

oh eljay, I just dunno about you.

In an attempt to embrace a healthier lifestyle now that I am post-first year badness and waittressing benefits, I have started jogging again and doing my crutches. Most importantly, I have started drinking the 8-10 cups of water that we're told is best for water-based bodies. Seriously though, I think I've never felt so constantly bloated. What good is water if it only goes to my tummy? Doesn't really make me feel any healthier, but at least my pee doesn't glow anymore. I mean-not that it ever did, other than that one scary time. We're not talking about that.

When you're trying to eat healthy, its weird how healthy foods just become really tasty, tastier than previously-loved snack foods. Unless you're high. Then everything just goes out the window.

Nothing else, nada.

fell in love again (all things go)

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