flame-proof writ

I wasn't messing around about that whole not enough sleep thing.

Just took a four hour nap. From 5:30 PM till 9:30 PM. Worst time ever to take a nap. I feel like shit. Gotta read a lot of stuff now. Don't really care to.

Joanna Newsom makes me really sad about my talents and also myself as a person. Her lyrics are really really good. It's horrible. The worst part about them is that they are sometimes about her own insecurities and shortcomings as an artist, and yet the very lyrics where she expresses these doubts are some of the most beautiful words I have heard in my entire life. The perfect example is as follows:

...And all at once it came to me,
and i wrote and hunched till four thirty
But that vestal light, it burns out with the night
in spite of all the time that we spent on it
on one bedraggled ghost of a sonnet
While outside, the wild boars root
without bending a bough underfoot
O it breaks my heart; I don't know how they do it
And as for my inflammatory writ?
Well, I wrote it and I was not inflamed one bit.
Advice from the master derailed that disaster
he said "Hand that pen over to me, poetaster!"
While across the great plains, keening lovely & awful,
ululate the last Great American Novels
An unlawful lot, left to stutter and freeze, floodlit
But at least they didn't run, to their undying credit.


I tried to only put a small part but I felt the need put the whole second half of the song. Damn you Joanna, damn you! At least I have learned one thing from this: make up more words! It's so fun.