focus
silentbob clarity 040308
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lotuseater sucof, dammit! 040308
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Q An object of special interest to a person who perceives the object through perceptons that it reflects or emits. Examples of perceptons are photons, phonons, neuronal electrical signals, and pheromones. Sorry to be so clinical, but that's what focus is all about. See kissing. 040309
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lotuseater clinical... tee hee

do you mean cynical?
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eatpaper i cant. they're all around me and they know the truth. they know and they wont tell. 040313
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PeeT on what's right, not what's wrong. 120416
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n o m no more distractions 120731
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unhinged so easily defeated 120801
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no reason when i find myself focusing inward too much, i try to read the news and invest in things outside of myself. it's pretty damn hard sometimes, though. 130326
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Risen I'm trying so hard to focus right now.

I've reorganised my whole room. All my paperwork.

But there's this blank space on my wall where she used to be, and my eyes wonder there far too often.
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unhinged is out the window now that my mind has such pleasant fantasies to unravel 140302
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Pilgrim Soft is best 140303
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epitome of incomprehensibility Attention deficit high definition = focus is not actually the problem. I just can't see the forest for the twigs. Denomination, presbyopia (my eyes say not literally; they are myopic in a grey-blue sort of way).

But the problem about not getting things done is more about motivation. Or that whenever I get motivated to do something I get scared. My eyes are the wrong colour, that's it. Maybe if they were "starry violet," spending an afternoon surrounded by selected texts - Anne of Green Gables, the Norton Critical Edition of A Clockwork Orange, and my journal from 1999-2004 - and trying to focus my eyes just right so that they fuse into some kind of original novel would be worth it.
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portals to discovery indeed (Yes, my eyes will fuse into a novel. I'll be blind, but at least I'll have a book to show for it. Please no; I'm glad I can see.) 140303
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epitome of incomprehensibility It starts when newly-adopted orphan Anne Shirley cracks her slate over Alex's head and kills him.

The courts don't believe Anne's defiant testimony, the statement that Alex merely ("Merely! because, oh, it wounded my very soul, my VERY SOUL, Diana") whispered "Orange!" in her ear to tease her about her hair colour. They reason, no, the girl is too shy to say that he tried to grope Diana's as-yet-small breasts (which he did, too, but Anne didn't notice) and that Anne, most rightly, defended her "bosom friend" (a rather immature court writer snickers at this wording).

Alex's parole officer is secretly glad to see him dead. Mr. Gluteus, as he's called, didn't want to go through the paperwork of having his new, and frankly repellent, client deported from Canada back to The People's Especially Democratic Republic of Great Britain. Mrs. Lynde, Marilla and Matthew's outspoken neighbour, says, "Well, Marilla, you know I pride myself on speaking my mind. Land sakes, but you musn't think that child killed the boy on purpose. Why, in my opinion, that boy was nothing but trouble. Reformed! Humph! Only Providence knows, but in my opinion you can't reform a London street [offensive stereotype that doesn't reflect Alex's ethnic identity]. But I'm telling you, Marilla, this is a regular Avonlea scandal."

That night Anne Shirley, face white and grey-green eyes ablaze, pens in her secret diary, "I am not sorry. Not a bit. If any other horrid boy makes cruel remarks about my hair, I will find him. AND I WILL KILL HIM."
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