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I took challenge exams for some courses, MATH 322 and MATH 300, and I kind of botched them, especially the MATH 300 exam. It's cos of not getting much sleep the night before them, I daresay. Maybe I will do adequately anyway and maybe not, but I feel pretty stupid. ( math~~ )
I have just read Mélusine and The Virtu and have plunged into a demented Romantic state of mind & would dearly like to be emotionally shattered and languishing of something, please give suggestions.
The favourite of beautiful gothic deaths, consumption, has been considered and rejected since it is now called the unlovely name tuberculosis and I refuse to die of same. Do not attempt to sway me, I am absolutely firm.
Also suggestions involving going crazy are impracticable since I have already gone crazy.
Alternatively, you could buy me The Mirador. This is unlikely to do anything except make the problem worse but, well.
Oh yes; tonight shortly before midnight, in more or less the state of mind that I have described withal, I saw something spooky! The little notes on that weird antique store with the electronic billboard near Deserts — you know, the ones that say something close to "Anyone defacing this window will be under a curse and may lose an eye. BEWARE!" — they were curiously faded, almost into illegibility, and written in the same hand that I had been deciphering all that afternoon, out of the crabbed archives of the pirate branch of the Van Allen family, the hand that I knew — I knew — had been dead for these three hundred years no not really.
But, the first part is true! Persons, whom I will not name here, who live in the... area, may wish to examine them, if their fancy chooses to do so. Or maybe it was because of the sodium light. Who, in the ultimate expression of man's helplessness before a malevolent universe, knows?
I have just read Mélusine and The Virtu and have plunged into a demented Romantic state of mind & would dearly like to be emotionally shattered and languishing of something, please give suggestions.
The favourite of beautiful gothic deaths, consumption, has been considered and rejected since it is now called the unlovely name tuberculosis and I refuse to die of same. Do not attempt to sway me, I am absolutely firm.
Also suggestions involving going crazy are impracticable since I have already gone crazy.
Alternatively, you could buy me The Mirador. This is unlikely to do anything except make the problem worse but, well.
Oh yes; tonight shortly before midnight, in more or less the state of mind that I have described withal, I saw something spooky! The little notes on that weird antique store with the electronic billboard near Deserts — you know, the ones that say something close to "Anyone defacing this window will be under a curse and may lose an eye. BEWARE!" — they were curiously faded, almost into illegibility, and written in the same hand that I had been deciphering all that afternoon, out of the crabbed archives of the pirate branch of the Van Allen family, the hand that I knew — I knew — had been dead for these three hundred years no not really.
But, the first part is true! Persons, whom I will not name here, who live in the... area, may wish to examine them, if their fancy chooses to do so. Or maybe it was because of the sodium light. Who, in the ultimate expression of man's helplessness before a malevolent universe, knows?
