"Weird Fishes"

Sanity has became compressed into an uninspired white, sterile room devoid of the necessary aesthetic functions conducive to creative stimulation. Only here do clouds gather in the absence of winds. When the storm has finally finished its deliberate dawdling it unleashes a lethargic torrent of disgust, apathy, but calm. [ ] waddles doggy-paddles and twaddles. As he floats and sinks through this chilly inundation of dry words and empty thoughts, he can't help but notice the solemn expressions of the mute fishes attracted by this newcomer, although whether or not they extend their greetings cannot be surmised. He wonders what they make of this uninvited loiterer and his unfocused, deadpan gaze, but soon realizes the absurdity of wondering the wonders of fish. However long they have mindlessly or deliberately swam circles in their confinement cannot be known. But as with any fish, no matter what tank one tosses them in, he or she will always appear calm, at ease, and habituated with their new surrounding. [ ] is reminded, though, that he is no fish.

I'm sorry friends, but my weekend just got Dirli[c]ked

I don't know why and I usually don't care.

But holding a ph.D shouldn't allow you the liberty to litter your publications with needlessly protracted six-line sentences jumbled with baseless theoretical jargons and passive voice structures. More pictures in your books would also help too. Why must you deliberately make what otherwise would be an interesting argument so difficult to read?

Hong Kong.

Macau

Right Proposal

Amidst extremely heavy procrastination, with stacks among stacks of academic literature by my side threatening to submerge me into a maddening fury comprised of pretentiously gaudy eight-line sentences (see Goldstein's chapter in Walder 1996: 168). But I won't allow myself be drowned, no, not yet; I still have much more time-wasting to do. I'm reclaiming my weekends. This all brought about from some spontaneity, much apathy, and an overall lack of concern for the work left to do in the remaining days of this quarter. Nowadays, whenever my eyes fall upon my mound of books, all I really want to do is laugh and sleep. Wait, what? Well, so appears I should use some of the analytical and critical assessment skills, which for the past two months have been developed in class through much writing, to figure out what the hell I'm doing.

sea people and me.

Nothing new. Excessive consumption is surely, shirley conducive to the arts; and perhaps contributes to their image as stereotypically broke losers who reside on the side of the road. Certainly enjoyed a much-needed bike excursion after being dismayingly cooped up in the library attempting to analyze a few political economic articles. Ugh, fake sciences. Dear history, I'm coming back; currently drooling over my bountiful collection of primary sources right now - about Uighurs! Or as Penelope would have it...weeeegers.

Happy Birthday Jean

Maybe I've realized this before, but when it comes to me most realizations tend to disappear into the vastness of space after a few minutes, hours, or days. First of all, well hey just right now!I've developed a habit of sitting like a peasant with my left feet on the chair. And so I hear this blood that's gathered underneath my toenail isn't going away for two more months.

Second, more or less insignificantly, I tend to not take sides or have opinions on a lot of matters. Not really news, but offers a plausible explanation as to why the only thing coming out of me in a certain class lately has been my smiley smile. Smiles tend to beat stupid opinions at least. Like girls ranting about why there shouldn't be population control. Really...Really? Why don't you get the fuck outta here and go feed them then?

...so now that I've just been found guilty of some opinionated ranting, I just want to defend my occasional lack of opinions by the fact that the world tends to happen regardless of what youmetheyuswe thinks.

From religion's judgmental standpoint this is a lack of conviction. But if Dante's right, !and I think maybe that I should save up some money to place a bet regarding the afterlife once that technology becomes available! then hopefully I'll end up in the first circle of Limbo. Did you know that not only does it feature green fields and a castle, but is also populated by the likes of Homer and Virgil? !Finally!maybe! I will learn to appreciate the classics!

And maybe I'll have more opinions and convictions once there's proof that the eternal happiness that majestically!radiates throughout heaven is actually more of an eternal acid trip. Happy Birthday Jean.

"Every bear knows that honeyed tea can sweeten you dreams..."

Reverting. A walk through campus armed with MEH flask.

My mascot is a stupid tree, so perhaps its sparsely fitting that many varieties of fruits grow here. Next to classrooms. Outside my apartment. Apples, oranges, and limes. There's always something refreshing about them? Lately I've been "stealing" both limes and vodka (from fellow classmates) for the obvious concoction. All this while making a fool of myself, including my traditional stereotypical race rants. Maybe I had similarly assholes friends in the past, but that shit does not fly here.

I often stroll my neighborhood slash campus. Sure it's historical; pretty pillars and bricks and busts elicit that WOW effect to some degree. But sometimes I can't help but visualize all the dusty redundancy that surrounds me. The fact that prestige is somehow hinged upon history. Even peoples' attitudes here evince a great deal of nonsensical arrogance. Maybe its because that they think of themselves as people who should be looked upon as geniuses and deserve respect just based on that false asset.

Whatevers. I can go fuck a history right now.

So here i reside, comfortable in my stanford dormitory, with all the amenities and facilities that a near $40,000 tuition better goddamn afford. here i drift there i drift. orientation has brought me into a longed-for social contact with those with "similar interests," but amongst them i am still adrift. serious people with serious goals. and its to them that i try to lie and stretch my love for something i'd rather hide? such envy pains, such a pervasive envy at the ambitions emanating from those around me.