college essay 2005

I (a lover of concisety - which is prettier than conciseness) hold to the brevity of my essays with a death-grip:

If I had the tools, I would build so many things... the island in the thunderstorm (an endless driving rain), with its little cozy house and the house's lightningvane, where the unrelenting clouds and the water's always choppy, but despite it all the house prevails for all eternity... and into the night and the driving rain, bubbles forth a new vision of a cool desert night, when the sun burns into the rock, and shelter is only found in the dreams of the smooth carved interior of an air pocket in stone... blistering as it does into the meltingpot of earth's pore - the ledge beside the burning liquid swirls, heat rising as bats into the dawn's testy light before the clouds begin to burn, crisping on the edges as the sun's stealthy glide goes unnoticed past the ants creeping quickly along the jagged corner of the broken glass half buried in the sand... everything in that heat and that cool spins clockworkly into one giant void, the bubbling mechanical epicenter of everything that isn't, the point or swirling vortex or block of marble or bending blade of grass (as dew slips quietly) or falling grains of salt (in wind), before it has expanded again it contracts into a miniscule slowly rotating ball of everything and then (at once) bursts to potential as everything of everything becomes again before it's gone... Alas I must satisfy myself with the idea, as physical omnipotence unfortunately evades my possession.