blonde wigs and red heads

i am sitting and drinking an overwhelming amount of coffee; i feel so collected yet sporadic, as if my ten various elongate rope creatures can't connect to my bones anymore, so i just kind of let them writhe out of their spockets; i need to accomplish eight things today and it seems i need to take inspiration from very boring creations which enlist zero creativity just because i need to feel at ease about things. too much stimulation by inherently stimulating people can distract me from my work, and right now i just need to especially focus on things like ghana's resource curse and my looming stressful week because oh lord that's how it goes. so it goes.

i am moving to grant park

the second coming

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.

Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?

William Butler Yeats (1865-1939)

happy

niagra detroit

fucking in love with her.

/ / / the expanding earth

i think i trust myself.