Before me are the profoundly vibrant green of a spring forest, the mild violet of distant hills, and the gleaming copper of sunrise. I can't imagine anything more beautiful. But this, after all, is the last clawing, gasping heave of spring semester, a time when dorm life waxes surreal as circadian rhythm becomes a contradiction in terms. I think the birds understand -- they sing tirelessly through the night, which I used to find disconcerting; but I've become like them, chattering messages to England at no particular hour of morning darkness.
It really is strange, how I feel this time of year. I love this building, all ten floors of rusting black steel, chipped brick, and stained concrete. I perversely savor my seldom singular sneezes, caused though they are by plant sperm being all up in my sinuses. Apparently I take delight in alliteration as well. I'd go on but I think it's my bedtime.
posted on Monday, April 30, 2007
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