Photography

Writing on the Wall

Words

The area behind my couch isn’t good for anything. It’s a walkway, and the wall is wasted space. So I hung kraft paper on it, to write on. Which I know makes me look crazy, and I am!, but it’s also nice to have a place to write stuff.

If I owned my home, I would probably be one of those people who writes on the walls. But I’m not, so this what I do instead.

Photography

I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe

Herman B Wells Library 5E
I laid my heart open to the benign indifference of the universe
Herman B Wells Library 5E

It’s still freezing cold on our floor. Just on our floor. So my solution is to take periodic breaks to walk and warm up. I usually go up to the stacks and do a couple of laps, and when I see interesting graffiti in the study carrels, I take photos. Most of it is penises. Lots and lots and lots of penises. So many, I could do an entire Tumblr of nothing but Penises of the Library. I will spare the world that, though. There are also a lot of frat boys leaving their letters everywhere. I assume they are the penis enthusiasts, as well. And they like to homo-bait each other. Occasionally, though, a small gem can be seen, glittering among the steaming piles of crap. It’s never art, exactly, but it makes a nice change from “Bob has a tiny dick” and “Bill gives blow jobs to [dudes from X frat]” and “[X frat] all have AIDS.”

Oh, the other thing they like to do is mark their territory with “X and Y fucked on this desk.” I didn’t think it was possible for my opinion of frat boys to get any lower. I was WRONG.