i just want the rain to start again. just want to slip into september and then it’ll squeeze me into a routine and i’ll be translating livy and memorizing plutarch like i’m meant to, this is what i’m good at, it’s a dead language that keeps me alive. and i won’t lay in a stupor in my bed all day, sweating out everything except blood and demons, watching four or more movies and crying over whatever i’m trying to write while juggling calorie counting and body checking (it always makes me think of checking in hockey).
sometimes i get so scared just sitting in first cup trying to drink my coffee and read a book that i think i’m going to die. and then when i don’t i get disappointed.
there is a better than good chance that if i ever get a tramp stamp while inebriated it will read ‘i <3 xanax’. it’s all about the palindromes, man.
there was a kid at orientation yesterday wearing a syd barrett t shirt. i have high hopes for the incoming class. which is weird.