Welcome To My Bed

The briefest of briefs, Monday morning edition.

Good morning world and welcome to the under-2-inches-of-slush edition of my life. Today will consist of Grössby desperately attempting to tear me away from deciphering my own scribblings (read: assembling a properly documented portfolio and reflexive essay--two years worth of scribbling, to be exact), and then there will be me attempting to resist. It will look something like this:

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menaced by a non-descript shark appendage


Grössby would rather it go more along these lines:

Photobucketfully in love, bathed in angelic light


Meanwhile, I have long since realized I am not about to escape college completely unscathed. At last count, I have acquired three cigarette burns, a heaping helping of flannel, and somewhat acceptable writing skills in this bargain, among other ailments. In all honesty, none of these things are going to get me very far. But I am okay with that, beyond mentally prepared for what will come next. I spent the better part of a three hour drive yesterday thinking about all the ways in which I could backpack across America. Also, I thought a lot about screech owls.

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I am still looking for the through-line. I'll call you when I find it.