With stained lips and a bittersweet taste in my mouth, I perused through pages of 18th century British travel narratives, occasionally sipping from a steaming mug of coffee in hopes of bringing some life back into my tired body.

...

There is nothing romantic about the effects of strong coffee.  I was shaking like a leaf when I left this morning.  I couldn't stop grinding my teeth during my midterm. 

:(

Deep-fried mashed potato cakes, blended with butter, garlic, and Parmesan cheese.

I am genius.

52 Commercial Road - Reaching Sade

Post-Rock Instrumental

 

Today I spent the entire afternoon with E watching Britney Spears' music videos.

Then later that night, we watched an episode of The Martha Stewart Show.  

He humors me.

On my way back from class, spontaneity overcame me. I lay down in the center of the field and watched the clouds disperse into clear blue sky, drifting off to The Tumbled Sea [Untitled (for Piano)].  When the last wistful note rang and the sun faded from the day, I got up and walked home, grass clinging to my back.     

E came home tonight.  We halved a bottle of champagne and an orange, which I must say, is a vast improvement from whiskey and weed; good times, none the less.      

I feel content--maybe it's the pensive music or the company.  Either way, it's been awhile.  I've missed both.

Kimchi fried rice--with bacon.

Perfection.

Soft Pastels, Calligraphy Ink

The Tumbled Sea - Untitled (For Piano)

If I had a theme song, this would be it.  

 

Soft Pastels

The Tumbled Sea - Summer V

It's been awhile since I've found a song I'd like to learn to play in its entirety.

 

Bent double, knees on hardwood floor, we wore our fingers down blending colors from soft pastels, lost in the moment as our subconscious free flowed on to sheets of thick paper. 

Sometimes, it's good to have a glass or two on a quiet Friday night with a friend--it helps with the creative process.  Wine and a Kiss on the Lips?  This may become the start of a new habit. 

Thanks, D.  I'll stick it on my fridge.  Cheers for two years.  

I ran across the dewy field today wearing a navy bow-tie cardigan over a butter yellow skirt--it was very liberating, the whole prancing about without pants thing.  Now if the sun wasn't simultaneously tanning my skin and bleaching my hair at such a rate before my very eyes, I could've portrayed a modern-day, casual Snow White.

Yet, despite my haste, I was still late for class--as well as two shades darker than I was this morning upon arrival.

How unforgiving.

The longer you are without something, the quicker your need for it lessens; it's a reprieving feeling as well as a frightening one at the same time. 

However, the sense of loss involved under these circumstances render much confusion in my mind--is this progressive or recessive?  Does it indicate a feeling of security or indifference?  What kind of an adaptation is occurring?

Just me and an enormous mug (yes, mug) of cheap wine in this empty house.  It's rather appropriate for the type of material I'm currently reading for class--dry.

I have a feeling that neither will be finished by the end of tonight.

Poor planning and disorganization--spontaneity, I've found, tends to lead to these extremely unattractive ramifications.

Ashes & Dialect - Burning

One, two deep breathes

Count to ten
And nod your head

Sunlight's burning, sunlight's burning