black chevrolet

I'm being delinquent and taking half and hour off from work to blog. This happens occasionally when CPU overload occurs (the extra 40% happened when my thesis topic was rejected). I cease to care about anything that I happen to be doing at the moment, put my head down on the keyboard, and sit very, very still.

I just don't give a damn at the moment about the fact that I have five hours of work-study left to work, an untouched lab assignment for this afternoon, an untouched all-school seminar reading, and an untouched math assignment for this morning. I don't care. I can't carry it all anymore. I give up.

Nighthawk has become a faint memory of glistening purple-gray and steely turbine-whine and faded american flag on the brakelight. I don't know if I'll ever see her again, and if I do, I don't think she will ever be the same. I visited her a week ago and the interior was dark with fingerprints and the purple faded with dust.

Campus is fading into mist and cold. I take a cup of tea and my headache to the deserted rear of the commons and sit down under a yellow light and attempt to read and my mind drifts off into nothingness while my eyes scan the words on the page. And the winds begin to sing.

(slap) Ouch.

Why is my coffeecup empty already?