Sister I’m a poet.

I was thinking on my drive home, trying to switch into “dad” mode while remaining rooted in “academic” mode so I could possibly write a paper this weekend (D. Smith had this so right…). I was listening to a Morrissey B-Side comp, and thinking to myself after hearing these words for the millionth time, how much they have shaped me: Here is a log of my thoughts listening to a Morrissey-solo comp I made Jane a few weeks ago, but have been reluctant to give her because of how perfectly I constructed it (the only ego I have left since 2005, the year of the beast, is for my construction of perfect mix CD’s and doing Karaoke to Elvis Costello’s “Allison”).

___________________________

We plied an ancient trade
Where we threw all life’s
Instructions away
Exchanging lies and digs (my way)
Cause in a belted coat
Oh, I secretly knew
That I hadn’t a clue

We should put this lyric on a coffee mug or a poster with two kitties that just got the spray bottle for walking over the keyboard. This lyric has been my motto since grad school. Think about it.

___________________________

with no reason
To hide these words I feel
And no reason
To talk about the books I read
But still I do

I can correctly identify why someone would hate Morrissey. I can think of many factors, and my love for him wanes throughout the year. However, when I start up again, it is always because I get caught up in the story he is telling me. His lyrics are so good, so personal, and are about me. I always talk to people about the books I read. In fact, my favourite part about University is that all the quallies and quanties are forced to read the same books, thrown into a room and forced to talk about them. This brings me glee..

___________________________
And I wonder
Does anybody feel the same way I do ?
And is evil just something you are
Or something you do ?

Then I wondered about how much of my thoughts are in my own voice, or if I am just regurgitating Steven Patrick back at people for fun (and profit… mostly profit).

___________________________
The kind people
Have a wonderful dream
Margaret On The Guillotine
Cause people like you
Make me feel so tired
When will you die ?

A list of people I wished were on the Guillotine instead of Margaret…. as if. I study the Internets people, I know better than this. (read this for why.)

___________________________
Oh, you look so tired
Mouth slack and wide
Ill-housed and ill-advised
Your face is as mean
As your life has been

I wonder if my beard makes me look mean? I feel very tired on Fridays, and I am usually in bed by 10pm. Obviously tonight is the exception. I went to Borat again…

___________________________
Won’t somebody stop me
From thinking
From thinking all the time
About everything
Oh, somebody
From thinking all the time
So deeply, so bleakly ?
So bleakly all the time

I like it when I drive Katie to Shit City because it gives me someone to talk to so I can take a thinking-rest for a couple hours. I like this lyric because this is usually what I think about when I am trying to go to sleep.

___________________________
Our frank and open
Deep conversations
They get me nowhere
They bring me down, so

There are certain people I wish I didn’t have to talk to on a daily basis, but have to for a variety of reasons. There is a real part of me that just wants to be alone, and never talk to anyone ever. I was also thinking about how rad some of the people in my cohort are – I am in love with my cohort.

___________________________
I’ve changed my plea
I’ve changed my plea to guilty
Because freedom is wasted on me
See how your rules spoil the game

I really need to get caught up in my RA hours… ugh.

___________________________
So : the choice I have made
May seem strange, to you
But who asked you, anyway ?
It’s my life to wreck
My own way

“Sociology? What are you going to do with that?” “I am doing my PhD, I’m going to be a professor.” “Of what?”

___________________________
Now I’ve had enough
I’ve had more than could be
My rightful share
Of nights I can’t bear
How can it be fair ?
Time must wipe them out

Should read “Time must wipe them stats exams out ”

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