mmmarilyn;

a big-city fairy tale.

last.fm: most recently played music

current photos

{a photo project, 2006}

the fourth of april 2007.

The place is haunted. Just this morning you found a makeup brush beside the toilet. Memories lurk like dustballs at the backs of drawers. The stereo is a special model that plays only music fraught with poignant associations.

Bright LIghts, Big City, Jay McInerney

wed 2:27am

in dark bed covers

Just read the above for the first real time after an unofficial brief skim at 17 when I couldn't take any of it in: when a book is laced with cocaine and you've yet to have your first drink and even still be years from your first comprehension of the desire for chemical escape-- I'll just say it had more of an effect now, and perhaps for the everpresence of Manhattan as well. It initially invoked a question in me: how long since I've partied irresponsibly (as opposed to reclined in bed with a book all night irresponsibly) and taken NY for what it's worth? Am I throwing away my last gasps of a chance to be selfish and stupid and young and confused and so so sure of myself?

School is morale-crushing currently: massively work-intensive and without as much payoff as I would like, primarily because I cannot seem to follow things through to completion, and without that, the unfinished tasks circle me like rabid sharks. Their sharp foamy teeth are going to drag me underwater where I will be stuck with the only bright side that even I can flounder about with: at least I like water.

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