It is boot-scooting madness as the winter snows finally come to Insanity, Wisconsin, if only as the scouts of a much larger invasion force.

I was a cafe vagabond today, slipping into and quickly out of a half dozen of the creatures. Every mutant land of oversized cups and saucers to dwarf the heads of young and old. I've had easier times finding apartments than a space to jack in and flip on the headphones.

A juice-pig needs his rookery of thoughts.

Finals week has come to every Ebenezer undergrad. Fast and loose were they, death-grips on one last hurrah, spit out as the ghosts come and light stirs an all too familiar room in their heads. Their's is a quiet desperation still. Bonfires will be made in the coming days, flaming wrecks of man (and woman) sputtering in quiet desperation.

This is not my fate.

Ever the consummate, mostly zealot student, I could hear the wind and what it was bringing, how the spirits of the dead grinned through the trees. There's a peculiar jangle to this cant I speak with my eyes, over and along this statistics final. I am integrating and remembering simultaneously, running across meadows, lakes and steepled two dimensions that all seem so familiar. 'I have come back home after a long trip away' describes it well.

What macabre spiderwebs our brain cells make to dance this grim fandango.

Tomorrow is the first day of our finals study group. We're to cover 3 months of material in 2 hours. It's fortunate I'll have done that within a much more reasonable (read: longer) amount of time.

For now, souls are bled between keys and spaces of outlines, cannibal-constructionists crafting their final papers, their last set of notes...and from some of the nervously smiling faces, perhaps a last will and testament.

These are the times of madness. Insanity, Wisconsin has come full circle.

previous - next