three shots o' blue vodka

..they fade fast.

Spent the majority of today chasing a book, reading the end of the book, and preparing a lengthy outline for an English paper. This morning I woke up frightened by it (withering in the shadow of my last bad grade), but by noon I was on my way to a north side book store, by one I was eating overpriced caprese, and by three I was at the Bourgeois Pig, on a love seat, exploring the dynamic between Naipaul and Adiga in their descriptions of 'the real India' (all about poverty, but how is poverty more authentic than any other experience?)

By six I was home, Japanese green tea in hand, by eight T. and I were having a modest dinner of dal and rice, and finally, by 11:45pm, an outline was sent to my TA. Then an impulsive call, an impulsive and short-lived party-hop, with minimal benefits but a social box ticked off in my mind and pent-up energy put to use. All done. And now it's 2am.

Today felt healthy in a way I wish I could better express. I felt wonderfully inspired after reading about an intriguing art project on a blog I read regularly--self-imposed limitations and an ascetic approach to entertainment intrigues me. I am thinking about adopting a less intense version of her regimen (today I listened to only one musical artist, one I had rarely listened to [Britta Persson], for example) because I think it has fantastic merit. We do have too many choices, we should focus more. Quiet down and allow ourselves less than we have access to; force appreciation and thought where white noise persists.

With this in mind, I was out the door in search of a book I lost last night (a search that brought me to the north side). In response to my paper, and my fear, I sorted it out as such: what requires my attention first?

(1) Calm down; you can write a paper.
(2) What interests you about this?
(3) Why?
(4) How can it be explored?

Simple, but elusive when the white noise of anxiety fills your head. It felt good, calmly and unhurriedly cultivating interest in my paper. Drinking my coffee, stretching my thoughts over hours. Walking the stretch of Fullerton, continuing to feel in love with the green the rain has infused into Chicago's resilient plant life.

No need for white noise.