for those who have less wild imaginations: that means that i'm done with my thesis. 4 days of non-stop writing (a little over 30 pages) is finally done. i am a bit sad, i'll be hoest with you, the moment i wrote it i wanted to rip it to shreads and rewrite it. not that it's bad--it's just everytime you sit down to put something on you come up with 12 more things to say and then you're left with all these wonderful questions for which you knew you would have come up with if only you had the time for it! and you come up with a million more ideas and you want to read a million other things (like i am so turned on now to perhaps one day do a portrayal of ezra through the autobiographical works of those around him and such other crazy dreams and visions that pop up while you look dry eyed at the now bleak computer screen). as for what i've wrote: ezra would have probably at best given it an eh but i'm 85% satisfied wit it. and trust me, 85% is all you can really achieve in 4 days.
ah look at me: all academically emotional because i had to leave behind my subject.
thanks to a buddy of mine who brought to my attention that i've been too bob-dependent over the last few days (or in general, i guess) i did a little resetting on my playlist yesterday and thus rediscovered my tom waits collection--well rediscovered my few songs of tommy, and then downloaded quite a few of his albums and now i have them on--very soothing, suprisingly, that growly voice mellows out in these wicked romantic lyrics and smoky back room visions. even of an emotionally dead encounter with a hooker tom manages to tell the story broken hearted but understandingly--i don't know what it is but depsite having shitload of stuff to do (a whole 6 pages take home final for friday morning) i chose to do nothing tonight and listen to tom's stories instead.
my brain's fried nonetheless, so sorry for the lack of innovative wonders here in this post. but here's something that i came up with a coupla of days ago, about ezra, written by william carlos williams (the famous plum poet of mine) :
"He is the essense of optimism and has a cast iron faith, that is something to admire. If he ever does get blue nobody knows it, so he is just the man for me. But not one person in a thousand likes him, and a great many people detest him and why? Because he is so darned full of conceits and affectations. He is really a brilliant talker and thinker but delights in making himself just exactly what he is not: a laughing boor. His friends must be all patience in order to find him out and even then you must not let him know it, for he will immediately put on some artificial mood and be really unbelievable. It is too bad, for he loves to be liked, yet there is some quality in him which makes him too proud to try to please people."
cheers.
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