"What is the law? No spill blood!"

(School keeps me busy, but hello, and I SWEAR I will email certain folks in Norway, Australia, and King County as soon as spring break gets here!)

I live with an angel, a bodhisattva. In 17 days I will reach 25 years old, the age when Warrick warned me our dispositions are set in stone. I'm still scrambling to find the root of why I am so filled with the constant impulse to hate and criticize so many things, as if they were black and white when I know damned well that all is grey. I am a typical priveleged American, and I am also well informed enough to hate the word "intellectual", but lack just enough information to render myself "too big for my britches", hating all the freshman college girls for wearing Britney Spears sunglasses and spider leg thin heels on shoes, hating Americans for swallowing high fructose corn syrup like it was oxygen, hating myself for constantly criticizing the Korean bastardization of the English language and of Western things like bread. I draw blood on a bodhisattva while migrant workers are left to die in a shipping box a few states away, never to pay back the debts that got them here.

A white haired Persian cat sits chewing on things like vaseling dandelions, pork ribs, and the idea that suburban whites are really doing a favor to poor workers on some other planet by buying fair trade coffee.

I choke it down, it makes me shit instantly. The nutrient rich golden piss of people in America who think they're poor while owning things like TV's and sodapop.

(Are we for real?)