spending too much time in libraries. appreciating the crap out of a good resource.
god damn arts student.
and waiting; lots of waiting.
everything takes too long or not long enough and coffee or coffee-less, i'm impatient.
and i found a love letter someone wrote me not that long ago.
it's not funny or moving or even very real. it's not even really about me; i'm just the figurehead of imagination.
i kept it comme même.
identity centers around our achievements. i try not to think about it.
i've started sleeping again.
there are lovely people; sometimes. 
when we find out what our real nationalism is, we'll let you know.
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