Friday, November 13, 2009

triskaidekadelphia

the last Friday the 13th, i dreamt of Hitler and Jean Genet, and the one before was marred by the release of some (presumably) lame remake, but today passed relatively quietly. i'm struggling to keep the words moving, but at this point i'm unable to differentiate between the type and the tripe.

my underlying assumption is that i can address the various inevitable deficiencies at a later date and earlier hour, but i can't seem to shake the feeling that i might be doing little more than writing a more sophisticated, long-winded version of one of my student's essays. i've been plowing through them all week, making my neck wonky and earning the ire of my chiropractor. but this is beside the point.

the point is that it is late, i am tired, and the words are waiting...

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