What TV show do you wish would go off the air for good?

Please let it be Glee. The show grates me on a very fundamental level.

Ask me anything

haze is bad for your heart

I'm back, and I've been back for 2 days now but I haven't left the house since. I left my heart in New York and I need to go back: I love the grime along the sidewalks, the sun in my eyes at 6 am and jogging past steaming dumpsters. Not that I'm enamored by all that is unhygienic, but the dirt makes everything real. It situates me in this urban landscape, or rather, situates the landscape in the realm of the City without letting it come across as artifice. Naturally, the unfamiliarity of this external landscape animates comparisons with Home, but places are never perfectly commensurable and such discussions are never very fruitful. Still, I miss New York. I partake in the act of image creation through Facebook albums to construct a pictorial narrative of the trip in order to retain its memory, but these are only nebulous shadows of experience. The images, then, only function as signs to represent (or trigger) memories that are visceral and perceptibly unique to the author of this narrative.

GAH CONTINENTAL PHILOSOPHY >:(

Anyway, I am in love with a book. "A Lover's Discourse: Fragments" was written by Roland Barthes, published in 1979. I picked it up at Columbia U's Barnes & Noble Lit Crit section, and I spent the entire afternoon yesterday reading it.

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"I Love You"

The figure refers not to the declaration of love, to the avowal, but to the repeated utterance of the love cry.

1. Once the first avowal has been made, "I love you" has no meaning whatever; it merely repeats in enigmatic mode—so blank does it appear—the old message (which may not have been transmitted in these words). I repeat it exclusive of any pertinence; it comes out of the language, it divagates—where?

"Jealousy"

4. As a jealous man, I suffer four times over: because I am jealous, because I blame myself for being so, because I fear that my jealousy will wound the other, because I allow myself to be subject to a banality: I suffer from being excluded, from being aggressive, from being crazy, and from being common.

"Why?"

Even as he obsessively asks himself why he is not loved, the amorous subject lives in the belief that the loved object does love him but does not tell him so.

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It transcends Theory to reach the realm of the Sublime. (I will never be able to concentrate on Econs now!)

e.e.

Crystal Castles II!

OMG NYC

(I also loved
Warsaw&
Sopot
and s i
ngi
ng )

BUT NYC.
it's like a
dreamcometrue:















EXCITED. and too lazy
to do a proper post

!

au

re
vo
ir

!