My mind reels as my eyes blink lazily and my stomach growls

As the title suggests--I am tired, hungry and mentally spent. I suppose that happens when I read (in this order) 1) Beowulf 2) Foucault 3) Hutcheon 4) David Kellogg and finally 5) Pierre Bourdieu. That's 7 hours. My brain is now mush; fleeting constructed thoughts of archive, of blood, of fields of culture, of production, and Eliot of talent, of poetry, these fleeting thoughts flit and sparrow blurring boundaries, pouring in/out/around ubiquitously. I am / not always already produc/t/ed

And still i am hungry; a very physical response

contradictory conditionings

who am i kidding. i'm just practicing my scales here trying to refocus--a funny word, to be sure. refocus re-focus as if there was a locus on which to focus lol. more of a shattered periphery
shot
splintered glas (yes Derrida's here too) via Hutcheon via postmodernism via Foucault via Anita Desai and language that acts that causes that is that isn't that constructs extracted manipulated and manipulating. . .

i've decided to keep from deleting this blog; this will be archivable/ed proof that graduate students do oftentimessometimesalways go crazyalittlenutscompletelyoutofmymind ec-static or ec-stasis i'm in ecstasy really a field of energy expending preserving and remembering re-member-ing

i have to say ENOUGH now