A friend of mine asked me in the hallway how I was. In that moment, I really wanted to say, "I want to get drunk and scream Baudelaire poems", but I shrugged instead.
My stomach has been acting up again...It must be the school. The school inspires dread, fear, and hatred within me and all of that proceeds to settle in my stomach. As a result of my return to that environment, my eating habits have decreased because of the pain and nausea. I only go to school for 3.25 hours every other day and 2 of those hours I am an aide, I still come home worn out, lonely, and with the air of stress. Maybe that ulcer they thought I had last school year is finally starting to develop. Damn stomach problems.
That place is full of anti-intellectual brutes who consider mere sex (or "fucking"), drink, and marijuana to be the highlights of life and experience. Such is their nature and they will never surpass that nature of themselves.
[“The more a man cultivates the arts, the less randy he becomes…Only the brute is good at coupling, and copulation is the lyricism of the masses. To copulate is to enter into another—and the artist never emerges from himself”-- Charles Baudelaire]
I often wish the school had a clocktower and I had a sniper rifle.
About Me
- L.A. Rimbaud
- I hate people...And humanity in general. I dislike most things, am eccentric, erratic, and ill, but am overall quite polite. I don't communicate well in person. I only use pens with black ink, any other colour ink doesn't look right to me on paper and it goes with any colour or sort of paper.
1 comment:
I don't know. Some of the people who are good socially, I consider Social Artists. The people who can get out of any problem unscathed.
Post a Comment