Ivory

Drop It Like It’s Hot – Snoop Dogg f. Pharell

Damn you, Will. I almost pee’d myself after reading that Lost In Translation thing. To put it in bad subtitles, “Damn you to a thousand hells bastard!”

I’ve got a 500 page book to read for a 3 page presentation on Friday and a 12 page essay due on the same day. Suffice to say, I have barely started either. So it’s definitely going to be a week of abstinence for me. No video games, little TV and NO sex. Some sacrifices will be tougher than others.

Instead of going to lunch with anyone today, I went to eat a quick sandwich at the Understudy Cafe and read in Gerstein. However, I kept dozing off so I decided to move to University College. I heard people playing piano in one of the study halls, so I decided to just go up and listen. I didn’t want to intrude, so I hung around the entrance. It was a Chinese guy and girl and myself. They were wonderful. The girl waved me over to come and sit, so I did, but not too close. I shut my eyes and listened for about fifteen minutes. I was in a total music zone, a state in which a listener can find both physical and spiritual resonance in each note. It can happen with any kind of music. A club banging rap song. An overproduced pop song. A seemingly melody-less hard rock anthem. Or, in this case, a nameless classical piece. The two left and silently, I thanked them. It was a brief moment of peace in what is looking to be a hectic and miserable week.

PQ:
Then there’s this blur an’ the fucker’s shootin’.
So he drew on you.
Ain’t what I said. A blur an’ then shootin’. I didn’t see no draw.