mimesis (of sojo)

Victor lent me his power cord and saved my ass (ooh, my ass! I need to start dressing better but I'm so much in work that I can't) and now I have to finish my postmodern paper and write the technoscience one in 4 hours (temporality can suck my--) Why oh why have I done this to myself? (oh right, I'm a big fat masochist!) (which makes sense cos I'm queer and all we can talk about is sex) Sex and desire can be transformative, recognition can sustain or annihilate a sense of self! (like my papers are annihilating me)
Pray for me now and in the hour of my death
(for I am that which is achieved at the end of desire)
No for real, light me a candle, breathe out some energy to me. I'm spinning trying to catch it (but I throw like a girl anyway.)
I love everything but I hate this so much and have slept 3 hours in as many days I think.

"the orgasmic body cannot be identified with the organic body"

I have ceased wearing socks since yesterday because I am a mess and all my clothes are on the floor in a mound. I have taken to wear a shirt with an unbound chest and bare feet in red boots and ill-fitting sweaters. Clearly I can't let academia do this to me. I washed my hair with eucalyptus Dr Bronner's in the sink today, which made me feel virtuous. I am plugging away at what promises to be a good essay, and I got a message on my phone wherein I was addressed as little boy and told to have a brilliant day, which almost needless to say made me grin ear to ear. And here I sit in the library, drinking earl gray listening to music and doing my work. This is my work, and I am doing it-- what a lovely and solid approach to things. Doing yr work (in the large sense of the word) is so much better than being anxious.