pleasently furious half of the time when we’re not just toeing the line

Ani DiFranco: Brief Bus Stop

Fass mich nicht an, weil ich ein lebendes Stromkabel bin

2raumwohnung: Zentralmassiv

Yes, that day was uneventful. And I blocked Google Reader in Firefox, so I’d be more focused at work.

… well, it was worth a try.

There’s one more thing …

Deer walk upon our mountains, and the quail
Whistle about us their spontaneous cries;
Sweet berries ripen in the wilderness;
And, in the isolation of the sky,
At evening, casual flocks of pigeons make
Ambiguous undulations as they sink,
Downward to darkness, on extended wings.

Sunday Morning, by Wallace Stevens. Might have brought back my interest in poetry, which was pretty harmed at university by a boring tutor.