I have to take a break. Why? Why do I have to take a break? I mean I'm only writing for a few hours. It took that long to get some good inspiration. The problem I have here is that the other stuff I have not been inspired at all by and yet I still have to turn it in. Several hundred words of which are to be written for a teacher that I have a mad crush on... it's a nerd crush, it's not really actually a romantic crush, although it manifests itself similarly. A nerd crush though is when you are in the presence of someone so unbelievably brilliant that they are just infinitely totally fucking sexy to you.

That's a nerd crush. The problem with nerd crushes is that you want your work to be really good for them, and so you sweat it. You cry over it. You pull your hair out over it. You know. You absolutely KNOW your limitations. And in that context your limitations just suck.

But right now I'm not writing that paper. I'm writing a really fun paper on Dostoevsky and Christ and the individual and what's at stake there. It's fun. That stuff is just so much fun to write. I think I understand Dostoevsky. And I think that only because I've spent my entire life MISunderstanding him. Seriously getting it wrong time and again. And I think that gives me a jump on some other people in the whole study of the BIG D. If he met me... well, first of all, talk about NERD CRUSH... although that's kind of creepy and weird. So anyway, he would totally NOT like me... and would CRUSH ME in one sentence. But still, I think I understand him. Of course that could be the alcohol talking.

I want to now copy my favorite poem ever because next quarter I will get to study it. With a teacher who is more brilliant than even the really brilliant teacher that I have a nerd crush on right now. So I am going to put that poem here to make me really happy and make me remember to not be miserable-that I am almost done and I can go be a train conductor for a while and not think about school for a minute before I go to grad school to be chewed up and spit out by smart people:

"What are bell and drum, rare dishes and treasure?
Let me be forever drunk and never come to reason!
Sober men of olden days and sages are forgotten,
And only the great drinkers are famous for all time.
... Prince Chen paid at a banquet in the Palace of Perfection
Ten thousand coins for a cask of wine, with many a laugh and quip.
Why say, my host, that your money is gone?
Go and buy wine and we'll drink it together!
My flower-dappled horse,
My furs worth a thousand,
Hand them to the boy to exchange for good wine,
And we'll drown away the woes of ten thousand generation!"