so damn tired ...
The past week has been an insane whirlwind of family stuff ... so much so, that I really ended up blowing off a lot of my school work ... which is now coming back to haunt me. I was supposed to have had my Case Study finished by the end of class today but I just had the basic part (80 points worth) plus one of the "extra skill sets" (5 points) done by the end of the day ... the instructor gave me till tomorrow morning to finish (since he knew my schedule had been hell since last Wednesday). Unfortunately, I have been pushing through with one hour of sleep here, two there, the past couple of days and at this point I'm a ZOMBIE ... I hate to "just leave it" at 85 points, but I have doubts that I'll be able to successfully complete any of the other stuff since my brain isn't working too well at this point. I think I'll work till 2am then sleep till 4 and then see what I can finish up. Bleh. That screaming sound you hear is my GPA hurtling earthward.
ALL THE FORMS OF MADNESS
struck down, damaged,
made unwhole,
made unwell,
yet cut no slack
by pressing worlds;
how to function,
how to be
within this hell?
our days are scrambled,
we have no pattern,
we have no plan;
we are slammed left and right,
tossed up and down,
pinball action
but with metal walls
and we an orb of flesh
too many things,
too many needs;
the hours tumble off,
grabbed by hungry hands
we can not feed,
rapacious schedules
set the norm here
without a haven place
unseen vises
latch upon the head
and squeeze away,
erupting bolts of pain,
spasms of illness,
descending spirals
aching for death
as a release
all the forms of madness
swirl around me,
we can't be sane
to every type of fool;
we must find center,
a base from which to strike
back at their chaos
deep to their fears
- Brendan Tripp
06/03/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp
ALL THE FORMS OF MADNESS
struck down, damaged,
made unwhole,
made unwell,
yet cut no slack
by pressing worlds;
how to function,
how to be
within this hell?
our days are scrambled,
we have no pattern,
we have no plan;
we are slammed left and right,
tossed up and down,
pinball action
but with metal walls
and we an orb of flesh
too many things,
too many needs;
the hours tumble off,
grabbed by hungry hands
we can not feed,
rapacious schedules
set the norm here
without a haven place
unseen vises
latch upon the head
and squeeze away,
erupting bolts of pain,
spasms of illness,
descending spirals
aching for death
as a release
all the forms of madness
swirl around me,
we can't be sane
to every type of fool;
we must find center,
a base from which to strike
back at their chaos
deep to their fears
- Brendan Tripp
06/03/2002
Copyright © 2002 by Brendan Tripp