O hushed October morning mild,
Thy leaves have ripened to the fall;
Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild,
Should waste them all.
The crows above the forest call;
Tomorrow they may form and go.
O hushed October morning mild,
Begin the hours of this day slow.
Make the day seem to us less brief.
Hearts not averse to being beguiled,
Beguile us in the way you know.
Release one leaf at break of day;
At noon release another leaf;
one from our trees, one far away.
Retard the sun with gentle mist;
Enchant the land with amethyst.
For the grapes' sake, if the were all,
Whose leaves already are burnt with frost,
Whose clustered fruit must else be lost--
For the grapes' sake along the all.
Robert Frost page
Im trying to write again. i think the hardest aprt is starting off, because so far i only have two paragraphs and a headache. not because of writing, cuz of french. learning languages on a exhausted brain is dificil. yeah. french for difficult mu'fuckahs!
i'm always constantly amazed by the beautiful women here, but it's strange now. i can walk past without wanting to check em out, cuz i have this girl in my mind who just won't get out. not that i'd like her too, it's quite nice. but i'm a person of strategems, strategems that, in the long run, never seem to fulfill anything i want. in the words of the glass man of Amelie "it's about time you took a real risk." back to my writing problems.
see, over the days, weeks, months, years since i wrote for somebody, i've had many a epiphany that would make it all seem ever so elegant.... but that's prolly the hardest bit, writing all those ideals and all those dialogues into a ever-changing storyline. maybe if i put it all into four acts, it'd come out better. like the first would be something along the lines of the first man by camus, about simon without his past, the second could be the introduction of emily into his life, where it every single thing does change a la "it all begun to taste, feel, smell, sound, look so much sweeter." the third could be his journey inward while the events outside tumultously changes ... and the fourth, either with an eye to a future or a reprise of the beginning, completing a cycle he never started or ended.
cycles are a difficult thing to manage really. describing them over the course of a book means you have to give so much in-depth detail so that by the end, the reader won't be lost but rather *hopefully* found something new about themselves. see, the character's storylines have to be relative enough to accomadate a mass of readers and yet personal enough to actually give them a sense of "zomg, this guy really lived and died!" cept it's a total shroedinger's(totally not spelled right) cat, cuz you have to make the world either this world or one very similar. the cat in that universe deid, but in this one he's still alive.
fuck, i don't even wanna finish classes, i wanna head home and sleep for a good hour, then come back for astronomy. history can suck it, the teacher is borderline mundane anywho. like most history teachers. seriously bradley, why history? it's soooo boring. =p
my head hurts. i ought to stop being so casually smart and just shut off this brain of mine. what i need is a tylonel, beer, and bud. what you need is to comment, so i can see if my book theory is credible or complete bulshit.