yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away. today, they seem much closer.

I wrote a great post yesterday, about my geog exam, which was great, and lunch with my mom, and poetry, but it was eaten in a random server error, you instead y'all get today's groggy and minimalist commentary. I love stuff. I went to the marine club last night to the benefit for waxing poetic, and stayed out much later than I should have, given my exam scheduel and the fact that my reason for not attending a giant party last night was not wanting to be out late, but it's poetry, what can I say?

I'm goingto read crappy school poetry now, and muse over how dead it seems limply sprawled across the page, and my inability to care why it was so important for margart atwood to take on an alternate persona and attempt to plant her son like a flag. soul is one of those things that just belongs in poetry, despite that fact that this shit has none.