Some of the best times I've ever had have been misspent. Squandered.
Deadlines make time fly by. It's probably because it makes it more valuable than free time. A non-renewable resource. I have a couple of papers due tomorrow, and even though I started writing at 1:00, it's 7:00 and I've written two pages. I did manage to go to the supermarket, make brownies, talk to my grandma about the war and indigo children, call a friend and talk about non-rhyming poetry and the non-merits of DUI. Something about diverted attention makes my days better.
I'm gonna go watch TV.
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pity this busy monster, manunkind
not. Progress is a comfortable disease:
your victim (death and life safely beyond)
plays with the bigness of his littleness
--- electrons deify one razorblade
into a mountainrange; lenses extend
unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish
returns on its unself.
A world of made
is not a world of born --- pity poor flesh
and trees, poor stars and stones, but never this
fine specimen of hypermagical
ultraomnipotence. We doctors know
a hopeless case if --- listen: there's a hell
of a good universe next door; let's go
your victim (death and life safely beyond)
plays with the bigness of his littleness
--- electrons deify one razorblade
into a mountainrange; lenses extend
unwish through curving wherewhen till unwish
returns on its unself.
A world of made
is not a world of born --- pity poor flesh
and trees, poor stars and stones, but never this
fine specimen of hypermagical
ultraomnipotence. We doctors know
a hopeless case if --- listen: there's a hell
of a good universe next door; let's go
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