school fucked me over in that i registered for classes and they said that i never saved my registration so inherently i was dropped from all of my classes. fortunately enough, they admitted more students, so, i (luckily) was forced out of all of the classes that i registered for due to classroom capping. i have one class this semester. french. and i am quickly falling into a deep ravine i like to call a funk. the only redeeming factor is i will be able to work more to pay off more of my debts. not happy, not sad, currently just being.
its all good, though drew is the only one that reads this anyway, when he is at work, on break.
i found a receipt that i wrote on in class last semester:
methodology of reading
sentence parsing: words/ syllables/ sounds. letters and punctuation are a series of synapse stimuli. painting a cerebral visual of a world. land and water, peoples and animals all interacting. there is this one person with fair skin and blond hair. that isn't the prettiest nor the smartest but for some reason or another you like them a lot, and you hope that for their sake as well as your own that what you read is what you hoped for.
then on the back, while we were talking about Mill on the Floss by George Eliot i wrote:
Dispute over water rights
I dispute over water's right to chose.
Salt or Fresh; Hot or Cold; Solid, Liquid, or Gas.
It's not YOUR water, it's water's water.
In retrospect it is kind of funny. I don't know. I failed the final for the class so clearly I should have been paying closer attention.
i have been thinking a lot about montreal of late and need to find a picture... which i will look for before i post this....
Here it is.
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