3:03 AM

Oh, insomnia, you have arrived once again to haunt me.
This morning I watched a short film entitled "Lucia" and it was unquestionably wonderful in its own ways, yet sort of creepy. It focused on childhood fears, and you can imagine the basics. Even if it was presented in Chilean-Spanish, the voice was spine-tingling, nonetheless.

I have SAT class in six hours and just realized I have done absolutely no homework for it. Oh, seems like no sleep tonight. Last night's 10 hour snooze makes up for it, does it not?

Ah, and there's that question lurking in the corner with Turkey-Day arriving soon.

What am I thankful for?

1. my mother and father and brother, Aryan
2. my close friendships
3. music
4. my bedroom, with all of its intricate qualities that make up the reasons I love it
5. clementines, lots and lots of clementines
6. the internet
7. medical advancement
8. my education
9. traveling
10. love, if and when I actually am able to embrace and express it

Just ten things, I guess...

If it's one thing I am sure of, it's the fact that it's getting colder here in the East coast!

 Those leaves have fallen and wintry breezes have begun to blow in, leaving me yearning for a warm blanket and a heated fireplace every now and then. 

I just finished memorizing my poem for the school's annual Poetry Out Loud contest. It's called "Crepuscule with Muriel" by Marilyn Hacker. Quite lovely. Here's an excerpt:

" Late afternoon light, transitory, licks

the place of the absent cup with its rough tongue, flicks

itself out beneath the wheel's revolving spoke.

Taut thought's gone, with a blink of attention, slack,

a vision of "death and distance in the mix"

(she lost her words and how did she get them back

when the corridor of a day was a lurching deck?

The dream-life logic encodes in nervous tics

she translated to a syntax which connects

intense and unfashionable politics

with morning coffee, Hudson sunsets, sex;

then the short-circuit of the final stroke,

the end toward which all lines looped out, then broke)."

Read the entire poem here. [x]




I must finish these outlines and possibly take a nap sometime soon. Goodnight, world.