M: Life is a lot like making a waffle: you pour your own batter and add your own ingredients and try your best not to burn it or you. Oedipus didn’t have that choice. The waffle batter of his life was poured for him but he was still the one who got burned. Pentheus poured his own, and albeit not knowing the consequences, could have prevented the ( Read more... )

M: You want to what ( Read more... )

Stifle off the gathering bright ( Read more... )

So I just stumbled back into my dorm room right now, at about 11 at night local time, and I am beat. My roommate, Chance, and my suite mate, Alexey, are playing Apples to Apples in the lounge in the hallway. My other suite mate, Ben, is in his room with one of our friends across the hall from us, Lindsay ( Read more... )

It used to piss me off that every poem, song, and story had to be written about the love of another. But when you feel that connection with another person, I mean really feel it, it seems like nothing could be better to write and tell the world about.

So it goes.

I love you.

It makes me laugh, and it makes me cry ( Read more... )

brb, Scotland

It's funny how different things can be as time goes on, the way things have always been a certain way but it's taken you a long time to see it. It's a bit like when I first got my glasses in the 7th grade (I think that's when it was), when I was so sure that I saw everything perfectly clear enough only to have the world reveal itself to me in an ( Read more... )

The familiar sound of red wine diving into a gaping glass, the clang and scrape of bitter utensils against expensive wares, the pungent smell of sixty-dollar meals, and the low static rumble of conversation filled the room. The aesthetics of fine dining prevailed in the crowded space, though the spacial separation between tables attempted intimacy ( Read more... )

Eyes resonate like fervent bells ( Read more... )