What should I read next:
1. The Vampire Lestat, Anne Rice / 2. The Historian, Elizabeth Kostova / 3. The Glass Menagerie, Tennessee Williams / 4. OTHER, define which.

Who here has read, Fight Club and/or Interview with the Vampire? Preferably, I would like to discuss Fight Club, but I'd like to think that I'm flexible. ;D

Malediction - It was not fear which drove me last night but a real, burning anger. It was the seething anger which drove me into silence for the problem, and anger which made me loud in my dance around it. It was not the reproach, for that would have been fear, it was anger at those words. This is unfair, you have no right, how dare you, what would ( Read more... )

Holiday Wish List 2005Step One ( Read more... )

Everything feels like it is falling into place, in the most odd of ways. Times are incredibly strange, now, people are even stranger which I thought not possible. It is an odd feeling to be wishing the year away, wake up one morning and realize that it is gone. I wonder if I will wake up one morning at 60-something or other and die wondering where ( Read more... )

What do you think of writing? Any of these questions: what style of writing do you prefer, what do you think poetry is, what has influenced your writing, what do you think a good novel consists of, why do/don't you write, what is the important thing to think when you write, what do you look for when you read, etc., etc.?

I like being independent and I have never had any desire for someone to be dependable. In fact, the funny thing is that I generally get bored with the dependable people. Dependability, to me, has almost always felt like predictability. It is much more fun to be lost in spontaneity! It feels like I am stuck in a Grand Canyon-sized quagmire around ( Read more... )

( The rant. (I hate John.) It's probably best to skip this. )

It is so boring questioning the meaning, the reasoning, the everything of time. These questions are so tedious that it has become hard to even want to speak, sometimes. Almost every word that I have spoken has been spoken before and before and before by myself and many, many others. The issue of words is that I think I love them more than anything ( Read more... )

There's something in the poem The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock (as it is a very long poem, I feel that I am justified in underlining it rather than putting it in quotes) that I'm supposed to know. It's been showing up a lot recently from a lot of different people. John brought a large book of Elliot's to my house on Sunday and asked me to figure ( Read more... )

And because I cannot find the articulate words to express what's really going on ( Read more... )