Yvi (
recrudescence) wrote2008-08-02 08:02 pm
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Entry tags:
adolescence of
recrudescence
I rediscovered a bunch of poetry books, which has proven to be pretty preoccupying. I was planning on being productive this weekend, since I was in NYC last week--saw Altar Boyz for a damn good price, went in the Church of Scientology, had some excellent Chinese food, among other things--but nostalgia is not to be underestimated. Reading "The Waste Land" is a worthy pursuit, right?
If you like pretty-but-mildly-creepy songs and/or Sylvia Plath, have a song.
Fisher: Mad Girl's Love Song
And the actual poem, which I knew backwards and forwards when I was fifteen or so.
Also, Licia drew Olivia Wilde for my fake birthday. Go forth and pay tribute!
If you like pretty-but-mildly-creepy songs and/or Sylvia Plath, have a song.
Fisher: Mad Girl's Love Song
And the actual poem, which I knew backwards and forwards when I was fifteen or so.
Also, Licia drew Olivia Wilde for my fake birthday. Go forth and pay tribute!
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I also facepalmed. And the worst part was, my theatre companion didn't get it. He was like, "Why's everyone laughing so loudly?"
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