Oh Virginia

I should be working on a research paper that isn't do until the end of the semester, but somehow our rough draft is due on Monday. It's over Francis Scott Fitzgerald, but my choice, only because I couldn't think of a good thesis to do one over William Carlos Williams and his work.

About all of these authors and poets I enjoy, I haven't found one without a pretty powerful flaw. FSF=Alcoholic; Virginia Woolf=Putting rocks in her pockets and walking into a river; WCW=Extreme Adulterer...There are several more, but those are the ones I've been thinking about most lately. I think they all just needed to be loved and appreciated, either as an individual or as a writer. We all need to be loved. I'm pretty sure it's one of the strongest driving forces in life. Not love itself, but the desire to be loved. That's basically what my paper is going to be about.

As for right now though, I'd like to curl up in this, my corner of the library with some Virginia Woolf book...or a good book on deconstruction and a piece I can rip to shreds using that theory. Either way, I do not want to work on my paper just yet.


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