pitty this busy monster, mand unkind,

not. Progress is a comfortable disease:
your victim (death and lfie 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--pitty poor flesh

and trees, pour stars and stones, but never this
fine specimen of hypermagical
ultraomnipotence. We doctors know

a hopless case if--listen: there's a hell
of a good universe next door; lets go.

-ee cummings

I might have a new favorite poem

Given the choice to tell 20 things about myself or battle to death with Pierre the Pesky Poodle... I figure I'll go for the 20 things. Don't get me wrong, I could take on Pierre, but who would want to kill a poodle? So:

1. I plan to get a 1 way ticket around the world after I get out of college and stop by about 50 citties on my way back here.

2. My middle name is Rhea and I have to look at my drivers license every time I try to spell it.

3. My father wanted to name me Buffalo. He thought it'd be great because my nickname would be Buffy.

4. After he got over Buffalo my father wante me and my brother to be Boris and Natasha.

5. I dislike parsley

6. I can knit - thought the last thing I actually finished was a hat and that was in 8th grade.

Edit - Continued.

7. I'm afriad of amusement park rides. That incldues roller coasters, ferris wheels, large dark water slides, you name it. I get sick on the merry-go-round so we'll even count that in there too.

8. I also greatly dislike elevators to the extent that for the 4 months when I had broken my ankle and had a cast up to my thy I still took the stairs.

9. My favorite food is Thai red curry

Edit- Continued... again...

10. I'm a procrastinater

11. I can't spell for the life of me. I probably couldn't spell for the life of anyone for that matter... but that's where spell check comes in.

12. I claim I know how to speak french. Just don't try to prove me wrong and I'm set.

13. I'm the only person I know who's been able to break their ankle while sitting and talking to their mom.

14. I "play" three sports... I fence, play badminton, and rock climb.

15. As of today, DA thinks I'm a member... but I don't know why cuz I sure havn't paid.

16. The first thing I did in 2006 was to go play 4 on 4 football in an abandoned warehouse downtown.

17. I don't understand how you know the value of K in the formua for Inertia of a spehere is 2/5. I know that it is 2/5... I don't know why.

18. I have a large fan hanging on my wall (more than 3 ft radius) depicting a phoenix and a dragon, which in chinese history were the symbols of the emporer and the primary emporess.

19. I saved a 3 yr old kid from drowning (CPR and everything) and when we finally found his mother she yelled at him for crying and then hit him. I took him to get some ice cream down the street.

20. I havn't done anything artistic in months (even in art class) and its driven me crazy.


Damnit Dan.

When you were a baby I sat very still to hold you. I could see the veins through your skin like a map to inside you. How could skin be that thin? I was so afraid you might drop and break. I stopped breathing so you wouldn't.

When you were crying I got out of bed and went into your room. You were thrashing around behind the bars of the crib, your face twisted and red, like, how could they be doing this to me? I didn't understand why Mom hadn't come to you.

You turned your head to look at me. Your eyes looked so big in your face, so mysterious-wide and flickering like a butterfly wing mask. When you saw me the walks turned to sobs, and then just quieter heavs of your body. I heald out my finger through the bars.

Then you reached out and curled your fingers around me, so tight. I knew you recognized me. That was the first time I knew I haad a heart inside my body.

You know how in different languages, there are different rules about how to say things? Well in french, there's a spcific wa to say an action, if it's being done onto eachother or one's self. And I know french class and organization of one's life don't work together too often, but if one has to write about what they and someone else have do to eachther... then they do. Especially if that person has to stare blankly at an equally blank piece of paper. To eachother. What do people do to eachother? Hug eachother, play with eachother, cry on eachother's sholdiers, marry eachother, but... what about it. These things don't fit. Sure they can happen, It's just... they don't happen to the person stareing at the paper. They only happen in dreams. But when that happens, when people hug eachother, when "eachother" exists. And when life (dreams) seem to be good. You get backstabbed. And then you're dieing. Dead and dieing at the same time. Because who knows if you ever lived in the first place. And the dreams in which I'm dieing are the best I've ever had. The thing is, it's not because "eachother" existed. It's because afterwards... there's a slap in the face and a realization that I can't have that. Stop dreaming. Stop reaching for what you can't have. it says. And I remember who I am. And why I can't write a french paper about eachother.