:: a.whisper.in.water ::

:: Friday, December 06, 2002 ::

:Eid, Snow, and Sexile. Or, "funny, that kid doesn't LOOK crazy.":

Sine waves, nothing but sine waves in both the fourier homework sitting on the living room table, and the Aphex Twin playing to a sleeping audience. Am I poking myself? Slightly emotionally exhausted from being euphoric all damn day about snow; I did a rather comic doubletake at about 9am when I was awake enough to overhear conversation that probably had something to do with snow, but damned if I can remember what. I played in it just enough to get a taste for how amazing it is...it appeals to my aesthetic sensitive side, my childish playful side, and my aggresive belligerent side, since it cushions the impacts of others against it...infinite ammo from Above. I feel no need to archive my exploits; the shame of others will do just as well. I need only tip my hat to Rahul, Anne, Tim, and Keith for putting up a decent fight, and for giving me valid cause to flip out.

Nothing causes me to ask myself how comfy is my couch faster than a sock on my door. Apparently a sock equals its conveiently-rhyming counterpart, knock. Tell me that three hours ago. Oh well. At least I still have a nutrageous(tm) to soothe my aching corazon del desterrado.

First psych appointment tomorrow on not enough sleep. I don't know what to expect, save being tired and probably late. I hate second-guessing my own faults and knowing their accuracy. Chopin kicks some major ass; I regard him as a slightly-dandier Beethoven. I hope this minor stretch of life at least has the decency to end with a piccardy third: in what what am I putting this faith, that essential belief that things improve eventually? Who's at the organ anyway?

Ah, fuck. It's me.


:: Aziz 3:16 AM [+] ::
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