I have Paul Bareabu Stuck in My head and I've Spelled His Name Wrong

So I've just started summer classes, which clearly were a plan made for disaster.
I'm relatively certain that I'm going to need another job to pay my bills
and
my head kind of really hurts right now bc without realizing it until a few moment ago, my body has totally tricked me into not having caffeine for the past 3 days...
also
I'm kind of sick and tired (sorta) of going to school for, well, basically for the rest of my life. I'd like to not be waiting another two years to graduate, just to be awakened from this bliss by my debtors with their lazer guns and stoney eyes. (This is my own imagining of course)
Bugger, I wish I was British, they're all about just searching and destroying. Well, perhaps not necessarily successfully but they keep teh faith.
Well, I'm only worsening my rambling here...I should go back and start reading the 300 page book that is due for the end of the week on the man who triggered the start of the civil war...physically anyway...
I'll have to try very hard not to play Earthbound...like, really hard. hmm
I never feel like I have anything of interest to say here, but if rambling is permissible then I'm your gal.

This message will self destruct in...

listening

Band of Horses calms me down when i don't know who out there understands.

Can someone have me know they understand?

biscuits

I think I'm secretly a self deprecating socialist. Good. Night.

Post- Romantic: Paisley Rekdal

Came across this poem today. This is just a snippit, the full version is rather long. Something about it made it both sharp, lively, losing, and bitter. The lines come with such a great power, very lovely.  Hope you enjoy :)

"I love you. Can I even say that? In this story,

I want to spend the rest of my life growing quietly bored with you,

locking away loom and spindle, sweeping out the piles

of rose petals and ash. For once, I plan to triumph

over smug experience. I marry you. Don’t hit me.

Please, just come in from the stars awhile, sit here

in this sitting room, let me find you another section of the paper

to argue over. The doctors said I get to wear a suit.

They said I’ll be released next Thursday. Listen:

even now, the junipers are whispering their dark good-byes,

thin limbs smocked in white. A riderless horse has appeared

on the horizon. And somewhere, out in the meretricious night,

somebody’s life is quietly changing."