2006-10-01

You can't grade yourself.
Love makes you an anthropologist of your own life.
What is that language that we back ourselves into?
Whatever it is it's like a bad translation. Many things can make it so.
Hearts do not view one another. My soul cannot see your soul. These things do not speak on their own. And words mean nothing. Whats left?
Why am I using words? I can't explain what I mean, ever.
try 2.
Some songs have 22 versions, in different languages. Not often exact translations. Language doesn't really work like that....
Bad try.
go 3.
Franz kafka only had 37 dreams he could recall in his whole life. Only one involved sex.
In that dream his friend max and himself go to a brothel. They each choose a girl. Amid sport Kafka has two thoughts. one, 'this is so much fun why isn't she asking me to pay?' Second, he looks at her back while she turns away and its covered with big red circles that are coming off on his hands like wax almost when he touches her.
In these two things, you can find my explanation.
Kafka can explain me better than I can.

Grade school wisdom says:
If I don't know the answer to a question. I'm going to skip that question. But, instead of me going back to it later. It will probably come to me.

Easy.

Katrina at 7:21 PM

2006-10-01

You can't grade yourself.
Love makes you an anthropologist of your own life.
What is that language that we back ourselves into?
Whatever it is it's like a bad translation. Many things can make it so.
Hearts do not view one another. My soul cannot see your soul. These things do not speak on their own. And words mean nothing. Whats left?
Why am I using words? I can't explain what I mean, ever.
try 2.
Some songs have 22 versions, in different languages. Not often exact translations. Language doesn't really work like that....
Bad try.
go 3.
Franz kafka only had 37 dreams he could recall in his whole life. Only one involved sex.
In that dream his friend max and himself go to a brothel. They each choose a girl. Amid sport Kafka has two thoughts. one, 'this is so much fun why isn't she asking me to pay?' Second, he looks at her back while she turns away and its covered with big red circles that are coming off on his hands like wax almost when he touches her.
In these two things, you can find my explanation.
Kafka can explain me better than I can.

Grade school wisdom says:
If I don't know the answer to a question. I'm going to skip that question. But, instead of me going back to it later. It will probably come to me.

Easy.

Katrina at 7:21 PM