September 12th, 2008

spies sandbaggers sense of occasion

they're pouring heavy water on me

Because nothing creates creativity like spending the day killing your brain with idleness, I bring you the first draft of a poem.

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For your reference, Li Bai's poem "Amusing Myself" in English translation:

Facing my wine, I did not see the dusk,
Falling blossoms have filled the folds of my clothes.
Drunk, I rise and approach the moon in the stream,
Birds are far off, people too are few.

If you happen to read Chinese, here's the original.

The idleness of computer games is probably slightly better for you than the idleness of rice spirits, but probably not by much.

Tomorrow, I expect my brainkiller will be playing in photoshop. I have a bunch of CM icons I want to make. Do you suppose that will lead to more poetry?

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