Freshman: the godfather
Sophomore: clockwork orange
Junior: for a few dollars more
Senior: the matrix
4 yrs. 4 different best friends.
Crushes on a new girl each year.
From buying novels to stealing nascar hats.
The more i learned, maybe, the less i cared. I piled a litany of reprehensible factoids onto a burning fleshlaser.
In year two i read thoreau, and in year three i stood in the pines, dollar books in my bag, myself a kind of fractituous thoreau, watching the pine trees communicate breeze. The dark fresh water, a soapy froth mingled, was at my toes, kfc rime on my fingers, 11 herbs and spices being my supplement for reading Pyche and Symbol, my young sponge of a brain denying the existence of a shadow self, reading objectively a text of subjective importances and application.
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