i spent the last hour reading William Blake's Songs of Innocence and Experience for my Romantic Literature Class. i've had alot of experience with this period of literature, but it never ceases to amaze me how differently, the word 'romantic' was used when chosen to describe the literature of that period. there is utterly nothing romantic (in the sense that we think of it) about that literature. nothing. it is more depressing than anything i've ever read. it's not depressing in a beautiful way either. it's not beautiful pain, beautiful agony. it is dark & dead & bleak & worse.
when i stop thinking, disney world keeps entering my mind on its own. constantly. i need to go there. i need to get back to disney world because january in northern new jersey is heinous right now.
written on 2004-01-28 at 5:02 p.m.
she / lost