surrounded by the lounging crowd,
in formal dress and fancy suits,
I sit awkwardly on a couch,
as unfamiliar faces loom.
"enough!" I cry inside my head,
as relatives unknown discuss
the newly married bride and groom.
"I'll have no more of this", I think,
and wander off to find a space
away from all this wretched noise.
I come upon the snack table -
a veritable feast of food.
more types of cheese did reside there
than I had ever seen before.
these cheeses are a varied lot,
some orange, some yellow, white, or beige.
some came from cows, some came from goats,
and some from dairy substitutes.
they called to me so teasingly,
"you cannot eat us all," they chide.
enraged, I challenge them and claim
that I could eat them any day.
with trusty crackers as my sword,
and napkin serving as my shield,
I plunge into this deadly test
of perserverence, strength, and wit.
the cheeses are quite sinister -
they will resort to any trick,
like hiding jalapeno bombs
(whose poignant flavors burned my tongue),
or crumbling quickly out of reach.
alas, I fight them, one by one,
a vicious clash of cheese and sword
(my vorpal blade goes snicker-snack!)
I send those snacks right to their grave.
I dive and slash and stab and slice
they counter quite evasively.
but bit by bit, and piece by piece,
I vanquish daring dairy foes.
my arms are spiderwebbed with scars,
the floor is strewn with their debris.
a murky dust covers the room,
the ghosts of cheeses slain in war.
I promptly walk up to the bar,
victoriously, I buy a sprite.
---
...when I'm tired of giving...
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
bagels with strawberry cream cheese.
You know what's really freaky?
Watching Jeopardy on mute. You get all of the questions, but none of the answers. You walk away, and a few minutes later are still trying to figure out what obscure 80's band it was talking about. Curse you, muted Jeopardy, for ruining my peace of mind!
~~~
Not that it was all that peaceful to begin with. AGH. This whole college thing is starting to drive me crazy.
First of all: the essays. I've never liked writing essays. But, until now, they have just been some grade that sorta kinda mattered, but not really because I could balance it out with good grades on the reading quizzes. But college application essays... if I mess these up, I'm in a lot more trouble. The next four years (and, to an extent, the rest of my life) depends on how well I write these essays. No pressure.
And then: I don't actually really want to go to college. I sound crazy, right? All of the other seniors are like "oh my god I can't wait to leave this place and break free and blah blah blah." But... I don't know. I'm happy now. And I don't want that to have to change. I don't want to have to leave behind everything I have now. I feel like I finally belong. The first two years of highschool... well, they were a bit rough. I had to figure out where I fit in and who my friends were. But most of last year, and then this year... it has been amazing. I look forward to coming to school each day. I have great friends, am finally participating in school-related activities (theater, diversity club, art club)... everything just works. And I don't want to have to change all of that. I don't want to leave.
Yeah, she definitely plays a big part in this. I love her, and I'm scared of even thinking about the fact that I won't be here next year. I don't know what to do. I honestly wish I wasn't a senior.
People keep saying that college will be the best part of my life or whatever and that I'll make a bunch of new friends and stuff like that. Well, too bad. I like the friends I have now, and I don't want to have to ditch them all and go make new ones.
~~~
I'm tired, and I haven't even started homework yet. sigh.
~~~~
...but please pick the five that are MOST IMPORTANT to you...
Watching Jeopardy on mute. You get all of the questions, but none of the answers. You walk away, and a few minutes later are still trying to figure out what obscure 80's band it was talking about. Curse you, muted Jeopardy, for ruining my peace of mind!
~~~
Not that it was all that peaceful to begin with. AGH. This whole college thing is starting to drive me crazy.
First of all: the essays. I've never liked writing essays. But, until now, they have just been some grade that sorta kinda mattered, but not really because I could balance it out with good grades on the reading quizzes. But college application essays... if I mess these up, I'm in a lot more trouble. The next four years (and, to an extent, the rest of my life) depends on how well I write these essays. No pressure.
And then: I don't actually really want to go to college. I sound crazy, right? All of the other seniors are like "oh my god I can't wait to leave this place and break free and blah blah blah." But... I don't know. I'm happy now. And I don't want that to have to change. I don't want to have to leave behind everything I have now. I feel like I finally belong. The first two years of highschool... well, they were a bit rough. I had to figure out where I fit in and who my friends were. But most of last year, and then this year... it has been amazing. I look forward to coming to school each day. I have great friends, am finally participating in school-related activities (theater, diversity club, art club)... everything just works. And I don't want to have to change all of that. I don't want to leave.
Yeah, she definitely plays a big part in this. I love her, and I'm scared of even thinking about the fact that I won't be here next year. I don't know what to do. I honestly wish I wasn't a senior.
People keep saying that college will be the best part of my life or whatever and that I'll make a bunch of new friends and stuff like that. Well, too bad. I like the friends I have now, and I don't want to have to ditch them all and go make new ones.
~~~
I'm tired, and I haven't even started homework yet. sigh.
~~~~
...but please pick the five that are MOST IMPORTANT to you...
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
poem for the voice.
AN EXERCISE IN HEAVY-HANDED PARODY AND MISANTHROPY
(THE AMERICAN DREAM.)
(i) The Culture
(Sold my soul for a quarter.)
. “How can I help you?”
. Glazed eyes and a poorly-suppressed sigh conveyed
. That however much they were paying her for this,
. It clearly wasn’t enough.
Bang! Boom! Crash!
Violence! Action! Sex!
A vicarious summer, ten bucks a pop;
branded merchandise soon to follow.
All you’ll need,
all you’ll ever need.
Save for the hotly-anticipated sequel.
Metallic behemoths, hot chicks.
Cinematic excellence, ADD culture.
A match made in heaven.
Even better are the wide-screen,
crystal-clear HDTV monstrosities.
Infinite channels of nothing,
a wasteland of raw emotion.
. Her hair fell brown-black in carefully casual waves,
. Waves parted by stylishly retro rectangular glasses.
. Eyeliner, applied in a trendy scene style, rimmed
. Eyes I dare not meet in dreams.
Glorious lifelines, those earplugs,
pumping manufactured angst.
Provocative female vocals compliment
phat synths, catchy beats, and forgettable lyrics
about this breakup or that affair.
Dance/pop replaced hip-hop,
alt-rock after emo-whine.
Ironically angsty artistic faded,
succeeded by whatever’s danceable.
To hate myself or to hate the world?
Or just to screw it, drink, and party?
Music for all.
I go for the punk and the classic rock.
The Green Day and the ACDC.
Institutionalized disrespect, prefabricated chaos.
This is my culture.
. Drink after drink of caffeine buzz
. Shouted at me from the chalked blackboard.
. She sighed, fingers impatiently drumming
. On the faux-marble counter-top.
. She glances at me, at the register.
. Impatience, boredom.
. So deliciously ironic.
Books are a more sophisticated delight.
Still untainted by the ignorant masses,
they offer their subtle pleasures.
The classic psychological twists
are my favorite, of course.
1984, Animal Farm,
love me some George Orwell.
House of Leaves owns my soul.
My darling Lolita, princess of darkness.
Fahrenheit 451, Lord of the Flies.
But most of all, Fight Club,
the idolized masterpiece.
Pain to feel alive,
paying for the right to live.
(ii) The People
(When in Rome.)
. I scanned the menu once more, testing her patience.
. Her glazed glance turned to a glare.
. Inhaling the sharp scent of coffee grounds,
. I picked my poison.
Jeers and taunts ring like merchants hawking wares.
Cliques fill the hallways like circles of demons.
The jocks and their cheerleaders,
the preps, the Goths, the artsy drama kids.
Nerds, gangsters, druggies.
Rich and poor, black and white,
separated by increasingly visible lines.
An ancient and unchanging power-structure,
otherworldly forces assigning each his place.
Don’t rock the boat,
or else we might drown.
A biblical flood, a cleansing disaster.
. I dug through my pockets, never breaking eye contact.
. Coins clanked onto the counter.
. The drinks here are ridiculously overpriced,
. And a Tall is the least tall thing I have ever seen.
These kids, they get high, they get drunk.
A cocktail of malice, complete with prescriptions.
The over-diagnosed, the over-exposed,
generation of lost hope.
Well-wishers in comfy offices speak
of paranoia, schizophrenia, ADHD.
Depressed, anorexic, bipolar.
Chemically unbalanced,
mentally unstable.
These are my people.
Everyone must be fixed.
If only they knew.
But if a pill cures all,
and a drug molds personality,
then who are we, really?
. I watched as she moved to the machine.
. Easy-listening music floated from the speakers.
. My shoulders ached from the weight of the backpack.
. She glanced back at me, and I was still staring at her.
I am better than them, and I know it.
They mock me, but their cries mean nothing.
Nothing.
People today are stupid, lifeless.
Just drones, cogs in an endless machine.
They wouldn’t know life unless you took it from them.
I was smarter than all of them, more logical,
more refined.
I saw through this mess,
this objectivist nightmare.
I would come as a savior,
a shepherd of the sheeple.
I would judge the quick and the dead.
A bit of social turbulence, that’s all.
A spark for the revolution.
Our own Project Mayhem.
Bring corporate America to its knees.
(iii) The Incident
(No cry for help.)
. She handed me my drink.
Intimidated by my stare, her eyes darted to and fro.
Finally, I released her.
I turned around, a table in the corner
my lonely destination.
My pace quickened as I neared my sanctuary,
my kingdom, my freedom.
The lone chair invited me, calling for me
to sit in it, to fulfill its destiny.
I passed yuppies sitting,
typing on their MacBooks.
Probably writing pretentious poetry.
God, I hate poetry.
I hate art. I hate culture. I hate the philistine barbarians who have destroyed cinema and symphony. I sat down in the chair and stared again at the barista – oh God, her eyes. She reminded me too much of that one girl, that oh so wonderful girl from my algebra class who was so terribly out of my range, and knew it, and flaunted it, making out with that ugly imbecile of a jock she called a boyfriend – yes, she would have to go, and what a shameful thing it would be, for she had such pretty eyes. I placed my backpack on the floor beside me, reached inside of it, felt around, searching for my creation, my treasure… I had made it at Sam’s house, with stuff that I had stolen from the chemistry lab – they had all kinds of explosive stuff in those cabinets, and I would just sneak some home with me each day until I finished it. And now I would finally get my opportunity to use it, to set things right, to improve the world… to reach my destiny as a savior, a hero, a saint, a martyr… I would be remembered for this – I would make it into the headlines, the evening news. I envisioned the scene in my mind, watching the reactions of the people around me; that old man, he won’t know what’s going on, but that lady over there has a chance, and she might be able to escape… I could almost feel the blast now, I could almost hear the explosion, this was turning me on. But I must calm myself. I mustn’t lose control. This all had a purpose. I knew what I was doing. Social upheaval. Yes. Fear, terror, chaos. Yes. Sticking it to the man. Yes. I can do this. I am your one true fear, your one true enemy. I am Legend, the Jesus of Surburbia, the savior of the damned, ironman, the waiting. I am the unwanted, the unwashed, the uncared for, the slumdog, the underdog. I am the chosen one, the Muad’dib, the beast behind the wall, the walrus. I am your father, the kids your parents warned you about, invincible, a freak, a weirdo, the final solution. I am the last fragments of soul burning through your dead eyes. I am that last gasp for breath before everything fades to blackness. I am the sickening feeling in your gut as you realize the breaks are failing. I am the alpha and the omega, the creator and the destroyer. I am the way the world ends.
Three.
Two.
One.
(iv) The Reaction
(Empathy is a lost cause.)
“Did you hear what happened?”
“That Kyle kid?”
“Yeah.”
“He was always such a freak.”
“I never liked him.”
“He looked sorta gay.”
“I always knew he would go crazy.”
“I mean, did you see the way he acted?”
“He was such a creeper.”
“Remember that time –”
“Yeah!” “Oh God.”
“He used to stare at me all the time.”
“Jerk.”
“He was always pretty weird.”
“I pushed him down the stairs once.”
“Ha… I stole his lunch a few times.”
“Loser.”
“The other day, he told me to watch the news.”
“Why?” “Really?”
“I dunno, I guess he was trying to make the headlines.”
“Wow…”
“Whatever.”
(THE AMERICAN DREAM.)
(i) The Culture
(Sold my soul for a quarter.)
. “How can I help you?”
. Glazed eyes and a poorly-suppressed sigh conveyed
. That however much they were paying her for this,
. It clearly wasn’t enough.
Bang! Boom! Crash!
Violence! Action! Sex!
A vicarious summer, ten bucks a pop;
branded merchandise soon to follow.
All you’ll need,
all you’ll ever need.
Save for the hotly-anticipated sequel.
Metallic behemoths, hot chicks.
Cinematic excellence, ADD culture.
A match made in heaven.
Even better are the wide-screen,
crystal-clear HDTV monstrosities.
Infinite channels of nothing,
a wasteland of raw emotion.
. Her hair fell brown-black in carefully casual waves,
. Waves parted by stylishly retro rectangular glasses.
. Eyeliner, applied in a trendy scene style, rimmed
. Eyes I dare not meet in dreams.
Glorious lifelines, those earplugs,
pumping manufactured angst.
Provocative female vocals compliment
phat synths, catchy beats, and forgettable lyrics
about this breakup or that affair.
Dance/pop replaced hip-hop,
alt-rock after emo-whine.
Ironically angsty artistic faded,
succeeded by whatever’s danceable.
To hate myself or to hate the world?
Or just to screw it, drink, and party?
Music for all.
I go for the punk and the classic rock.
The Green Day and the ACDC.
Institutionalized disrespect, prefabricated chaos.
This is my culture.
. Drink after drink of caffeine buzz
. Shouted at me from the chalked blackboard.
. She sighed, fingers impatiently drumming
. On the faux-marble counter-top.
. She glances at me, at the register.
. Impatience, boredom.
. So deliciously ironic.
Books are a more sophisticated delight.
Still untainted by the ignorant masses,
they offer their subtle pleasures.
The classic psychological twists
are my favorite, of course.
1984, Animal Farm,
love me some George Orwell.
House of Leaves owns my soul.
My darling Lolita, princess of darkness.
Fahrenheit 451, Lord of the Flies.
But most of all, Fight Club,
the idolized masterpiece.
Pain to feel alive,
paying for the right to live.
(ii) The People
(When in Rome.)
. I scanned the menu once more, testing her patience.
. Her glazed glance turned to a glare.
. Inhaling the sharp scent of coffee grounds,
. I picked my poison.
Jeers and taunts ring like merchants hawking wares.
Cliques fill the hallways like circles of demons.
The jocks and their cheerleaders,
the preps, the Goths, the artsy drama kids.
Nerds, gangsters, druggies.
Rich and poor, black and white,
separated by increasingly visible lines.
An ancient and unchanging power-structure,
otherworldly forces assigning each his place.
Don’t rock the boat,
or else we might drown.
A biblical flood, a cleansing disaster.
. I dug through my pockets, never breaking eye contact.
. Coins clanked onto the counter.
. The drinks here are ridiculously overpriced,
. And a Tall is the least tall thing I have ever seen.
These kids, they get high, they get drunk.
A cocktail of malice, complete with prescriptions.
The over-diagnosed, the over-exposed,
generation of lost hope.
Well-wishers in comfy offices speak
of paranoia, schizophrenia, ADHD.
Depressed, anorexic, bipolar.
Chemically unbalanced,
mentally unstable.
These are my people.
Everyone must be fixed.
If only they knew.
But if a pill cures all,
and a drug molds personality,
then who are we, really?
. I watched as she moved to the machine.
. Easy-listening music floated from the speakers.
. My shoulders ached from the weight of the backpack.
. She glanced back at me, and I was still staring at her.
I am better than them, and I know it.
They mock me, but their cries mean nothing.
Nothing.
People today are stupid, lifeless.
Just drones, cogs in an endless machine.
They wouldn’t know life unless you took it from them.
I was smarter than all of them, more logical,
more refined.
I saw through this mess,
this objectivist nightmare.
I would come as a savior,
a shepherd of the sheeple.
I would judge the quick and the dead.
A bit of social turbulence, that’s all.
A spark for the revolution.
Our own Project Mayhem.
Bring corporate America to its knees.
(iii) The Incident
(No cry for help.)
. She handed me my drink.
Intimidated by my stare, her eyes darted to and fro.
Finally, I released her.
I turned around, a table in the corner
my lonely destination.
My pace quickened as I neared my sanctuary,
my kingdom, my freedom.
The lone chair invited me, calling for me
to sit in it, to fulfill its destiny.
I passed yuppies sitting,
typing on their MacBooks.
Probably writing pretentious poetry.
God, I hate poetry.
I hate art. I hate culture. I hate the philistine barbarians who have destroyed cinema and symphony. I sat down in the chair and stared again at the barista – oh God, her eyes. She reminded me too much of that one girl, that oh so wonderful girl from my algebra class who was so terribly out of my range, and knew it, and flaunted it, making out with that ugly imbecile of a jock she called a boyfriend – yes, she would have to go, and what a shameful thing it would be, for she had such pretty eyes. I placed my backpack on the floor beside me, reached inside of it, felt around, searching for my creation, my treasure… I had made it at Sam’s house, with stuff that I had stolen from the chemistry lab – they had all kinds of explosive stuff in those cabinets, and I would just sneak some home with me each day until I finished it. And now I would finally get my opportunity to use it, to set things right, to improve the world… to reach my destiny as a savior, a hero, a saint, a martyr… I would be remembered for this – I would make it into the headlines, the evening news. I envisioned the scene in my mind, watching the reactions of the people around me; that old man, he won’t know what’s going on, but that lady over there has a chance, and she might be able to escape… I could almost feel the blast now, I could almost hear the explosion, this was turning me on. But I must calm myself. I mustn’t lose control. This all had a purpose. I knew what I was doing. Social upheaval. Yes. Fear, terror, chaos. Yes. Sticking it to the man. Yes. I can do this. I am your one true fear, your one true enemy. I am Legend, the Jesus of Surburbia, the savior of the damned, ironman, the waiting. I am the unwanted, the unwashed, the uncared for, the slumdog, the underdog. I am the chosen one, the Muad’dib, the beast behind the wall, the walrus. I am your father, the kids your parents warned you about, invincible, a freak, a weirdo, the final solution. I am the last fragments of soul burning through your dead eyes. I am that last gasp for breath before everything fades to blackness. I am the sickening feeling in your gut as you realize the breaks are failing. I am the alpha and the omega, the creator and the destroyer. I am the way the world ends.
Three.
Two.
One.
(iv) The Reaction
(Empathy is a lost cause.)
“Did you hear what happened?”
“That Kyle kid?”
“Yeah.”
“He was always such a freak.”
“I never liked him.”
“He looked sorta gay.”
“I always knew he would go crazy.”
“I mean, did you see the way he acted?”
“He was such a creeper.”
“Remember that time –”
“Yeah!” “Oh God.”
“He used to stare at me all the time.”
“Jerk.”
“He was always pretty weird.”
“I pushed him down the stairs once.”
“Ha… I stole his lunch a few times.”
“Loser.”
“The other day, he told me to watch the news.”
“Why?” “Really?”
“I dunno, I guess he was trying to make the headlines.”
“Wow…”
“Whatever.”
Thursday, August 27, 2009
fitting/scattered.
Things have been going too fast lately.
===
I'm actually enjoying school now. I mean, I did before, but... I don't know, it's different now. I love basically all of my classes (except for English, but eh, that's okay). I have more friends than I ever have before (even though only like four of them are actually in my grade, haha). And I feel like things will only get better from here. There's some people I'd like to get to know better, and I actually have classes with them now, so yay. College applications are annoying, but they will be done soon.
And... yayyyyy theater is finally starting again! Not only is theater awesome, it also means I get to hang out with Daily after school instead of riding the bus home and listening to the little kids scream. I swear, if I hear those kids sing along to Hannah Montana one more time... hahaha.
===
Community meeting was hilarious today. (For those of you not at Cannon - since a certain number of people went to some soccer game or something, the varsity soccer team sang Taylor Swift's song Love Story. It was epic.). I have Taylor Swift stuck in my head now, but I guess that's an acceptable trade-off for such entertainment.
In other news, and in an attempt to get other music stuck in my head, I highly recommend that you listen to Queen's Bicycle Race. It's an amazing song.
===
I got my braces off yesterday!!! Yayy, this is excitinggg!!! I've had them on for what seems like FOR EVER. So, I'm happy. Yay!
===
Earlier this week, I noticed something. I was riding the bus to school (as a senior), listening to t.A.T.u and Cascada, and reading Fruits Basket. I figured that this could mean that my life was either really lame or really awesome. I'm going with really awesome.
===
I've been experimenting with creating synthesized music, and some of it is turning out somewhat well. I might actually try putting some songs together. The genre I'm going for right now is sorta a mixture of electronica, trip-hop, progressive, rock, and ambient. This might be fun.
===
Okay so I'm basically wasting time now, hoping that Mr. Fitzsimmons will send out the cast list tonight. Because I really want to see it! Hahaha, we're doing this really depressing play about a mining town where there is a huge explosion and basically all the men die. So it's pretty sad... there are monologues by dead miners, and their widows, and stuff. Yeah, haha. I might get to play a dead miner.
Anyway, I guess that's all for now. Goodnight!
...and I can almost put it back together...
===
I'm actually enjoying school now. I mean, I did before, but... I don't know, it's different now. I love basically all of my classes (except for English, but eh, that's okay). I have more friends than I ever have before (even though only like four of them are actually in my grade, haha). And I feel like things will only get better from here. There's some people I'd like to get to know better, and I actually have classes with them now, so yay. College applications are annoying, but they will be done soon.
And... yayyyyy theater is finally starting again! Not only is theater awesome, it also means I get to hang out with Daily after school instead of riding the bus home and listening to the little kids scream. I swear, if I hear those kids sing along to Hannah Montana one more time... hahaha.
===
Community meeting was hilarious today. (For those of you not at Cannon - since a certain number of people went to some soccer game or something, the varsity soccer team sang Taylor Swift's song Love Story. It was epic.). I have Taylor Swift stuck in my head now, but I guess that's an acceptable trade-off for such entertainment.
In other news, and in an attempt to get other music stuck in my head, I highly recommend that you listen to Queen's Bicycle Race. It's an amazing song.
===
I got my braces off yesterday!!! Yayy, this is excitinggg!!! I've had them on for what seems like FOR EVER. So, I'm happy. Yay!
===
Earlier this week, I noticed something. I was riding the bus to school (as a senior), listening to t.A.T.u and Cascada, and reading Fruits Basket. I figured that this could mean that my life was either really lame or really awesome. I'm going with really awesome.
===
I've been experimenting with creating synthesized music, and some of it is turning out somewhat well. I might actually try putting some songs together. The genre I'm going for right now is sorta a mixture of electronica, trip-hop, progressive, rock, and ambient. This might be fun.
===
Okay so I'm basically wasting time now, hoping that Mr. Fitzsimmons will send out the cast list tonight. Because I really want to see it! Hahaha, we're doing this really depressing play about a mining town where there is a huge explosion and basically all the men die. So it's pretty sad... there are monologues by dead miners, and their widows, and stuff. Yeah, haha. I might get to play a dead miner.
Anyway, I guess that's all for now. Goodnight!
...and I can almost put it back together...
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Mauve.
School has started, yay. A bit of confusion caused the year to get off to a rough start, but things are better now. Well... as good as they will get, I guess. Most of my classes range from ok to good. I seem to have a relatively good number of friends. However. Our lunch group seems to be fracturing, and our band is in need of some serious help. Meh, whatever.
***
One of my favorite classes so far is The Voice, the creative writing class. One of the activities we did was based on "found" poetry - in this activity, we picked random words and phrases from the top and bottom of certain pages in a random book, and then turned them into a poem. I picked Fahrenheit 451, which was an excellent choice. Below is my poem:
A silly thing, fun at my expense.
Maximum of comfort for two thousand dollars.
Keep the world happy and laughing.
Only one way out, he whispers in your ear.
Oh god, you silly fool.
A salamander glimmering in the high darkness.
Laughing.
It sizzles faintly in the great hot emptiness.
Laughing.
A new sun.
Laughing.
I knew it I knew it I knew it.
Did I tell you? Eventually, it might fall upon the city.
Bing bing bing, yelling, laughing.
The sick look on your face.
Stone by stone, falling.
Darkness, yelling, laughing.
And now?
You fall and lay without moving.
Another fever, a numbness.
An old man yelling, “Are you asleep in there?”
You’re a fool, an awful fool, an idiot.
“Last night…?”
I don’t know.
The final push towards murder.
Suicide and crying and awful feelings.
A charred wax doll.
I knew it.
But now I only hear laughing.
It's okay, I guess. I like it better than the other poems I've written in the class, but the limited word choice bugged me a bit. I probably would have cut back on the laughing. I don't know.
***
I've been trying to spread the word about Symposium. It's September 18th, at about 6:00 pm, in Taylor Hall. If you want to perform or anything, just let me know. If not, please come anyway!
***
For theater, it looks like we might be doing some depressing play about a mining town where a whole bunch of men die in an accident. fun fun.
***
...scrambled eggs, pork chops, and hot dogs...
***
One of my favorite classes so far is The Voice, the creative writing class. One of the activities we did was based on "found" poetry - in this activity, we picked random words and phrases from the top and bottom of certain pages in a random book, and then turned them into a poem. I picked Fahrenheit 451, which was an excellent choice. Below is my poem:
A silly thing, fun at my expense.
Maximum of comfort for two thousand dollars.
Keep the world happy and laughing.
Only one way out, he whispers in your ear.
Oh god, you silly fool.
A salamander glimmering in the high darkness.
Laughing.
It sizzles faintly in the great hot emptiness.
Laughing.
A new sun.
Laughing.
I knew it I knew it I knew it.
Did I tell you? Eventually, it might fall upon the city.
Bing bing bing, yelling, laughing.
The sick look on your face.
Stone by stone, falling.
Darkness, yelling, laughing.
And now?
You fall and lay without moving.
Another fever, a numbness.
An old man yelling, “Are you asleep in there?”
You’re a fool, an awful fool, an idiot.
“Last night…?”
I don’t know.
The final push towards murder.
Suicide and crying and awful feelings.
A charred wax doll.
I knew it.
But now I only hear laughing.
It's okay, I guess. I like it better than the other poems I've written in the class, but the limited word choice bugged me a bit. I probably would have cut back on the laughing. I don't know.
***
I've been trying to spread the word about Symposium. It's September 18th, at about 6:00 pm, in Taylor Hall. If you want to perform or anything, just let me know. If not, please come anyway!
***
For theater, it looks like we might be doing some depressing play about a mining town where a whole bunch of men die in an accident. fun fun.
***
...scrambled eggs, pork chops, and hot dogs...
Sunday, August 16, 2009
prologue?
Hmm. It's the last day of summer. This is both good and bad. I wish summer had been a bit longer. Well, parts of it. Not other parts. Oh well. The ending hasn't been as good as I had hoped, but whatever. School brings things to look forwards(british spelling) to. (ending in a preposition. grammar, I shall defile thee.)
//
Portishead is awesome. I finally bought their second album (titled Portishead), even though I already have like half of the songs on it through the live CD. Anyways, I now have all of their albums, and am most happy. Artists who I have the complete discography of: Pink Floyd, The Beatles, Radiohead, Arcade Fire, Muse, Portishead, My Chemical Romance. Interesting selection. I'm working on acquiring all of Massive Attack next. Yay for trip-hop/electronica.
//
I don't want to brag, but whatever. Here goes. Well, my family decided to finally update our cellphone plan, so it actually fit our usage. Which means we all got new cellphones. I took full advantage of this, and got a Blackberry Tour. (Since I hadn't updated my old phone in like... YEARS, there was quite a bit of credit built up for a new phone). Anyways. It is pretty awesome. I generally dislike cellphones and texting in general... but I can check my email on this! yay! So, I've got it set up to recieve notifications for facebook, my gmail account, and my school webmail account. Awesome. Even better: I found a Pandora app for it! Yay music! And then... I FOUND AN SSH CLIENT!!!! This is basically the best thing ever. It means that I can log into my server... from my blackberry. And run things from the linux console. To test it out, I logged on, wrote a C source file in vi, compiled it with gcc, and ran it. It worked! All from my blackberry. Now I can do server maintenance WHEREVER!!! Hehehehe.
//
Okay. So yeah. School.
Here's the classes I'm taking:
Calculus 3 online from Stanford.
Theater 1.
AP Psychology.
English 4 Honors.
AP Physics.
The Voice: Creative Writing - Poetry and Fiction.
An interesting mixture.
//
...if I wasn't afraid...
//
Portishead is awesome. I finally bought their second album (titled Portishead), even though I already have like half of the songs on it through the live CD. Anyways, I now have all of their albums, and am most happy. Artists who I have the complete discography of: Pink Floyd, The Beatles, Radiohead, Arcade Fire, Muse, Portishead, My Chemical Romance. Interesting selection. I'm working on acquiring all of Massive Attack next. Yay for trip-hop/electronica.
//
I don't want to brag, but whatever. Here goes. Well, my family decided to finally update our cellphone plan, so it actually fit our usage. Which means we all got new cellphones. I took full advantage of this, and got a Blackberry Tour. (Since I hadn't updated my old phone in like... YEARS, there was quite a bit of credit built up for a new phone). Anyways. It is pretty awesome. I generally dislike cellphones and texting in general... but I can check my email on this! yay! So, I've got it set up to recieve notifications for facebook, my gmail account, and my school webmail account. Awesome. Even better: I found a Pandora app for it! Yay music! And then... I FOUND AN SSH CLIENT!!!! This is basically the best thing ever. It means that I can log into my server... from my blackberry. And run things from the linux console. To test it out, I logged on, wrote a C source file in vi, compiled it with gcc, and ran it. It worked! All from my blackberry. Now I can do server maintenance WHEREVER!!! Hehehehe.
//
Okay. So yeah. School.
Here's the classes I'm taking:
Calculus 3 online from Stanford.
Theater 1.
AP Psychology.
English 4 Honors.
AP Physics.
The Voice: Creative Writing - Poetry and Fiction.
An interesting mixture.
//
...if I wasn't afraid...
Monday, August 10, 2009
two songs/listen to them
These two songs are most excellent, and I've recently had them stuck in my head.
First, Handlebars by Flobots. The music video is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuK2A1ZqoWs
I like the way the lyrics and the music video work together to tell a message. Neither of them would be as effective without the other, in my opinion. I think the moral is interesting - as individuals, we have incredible power and abilities. How do we use them? For good, or for evil? For progress? Is progress always good? This video thinks not. I am still undecided.
Second, The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel. I had a hard time finding a link for this... I wanted you to hear the studio version, not a live performance or a cover. This was the only thing I found: http://www.wat.tv/video/simon-and-garfunkel-the-boxer-1430v_1430y_.html
Anyway, I just love this song. Especially from about 4:00 onwards. Not really sure why, but this song has been stuck in my head now every single morning.
So. yeah. Listen to them if you want. Tell me what you think. Give me random songs to listen to. Whatever.
...and wishing I was gone...
First, Handlebars by Flobots. The music video is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AuK2A1ZqoWs
I like the way the lyrics and the music video work together to tell a message. Neither of them would be as effective without the other, in my opinion. I think the moral is interesting - as individuals, we have incredible power and abilities. How do we use them? For good, or for evil? For progress? Is progress always good? This video thinks not. I am still undecided.
Second, The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel. I had a hard time finding a link for this... I wanted you to hear the studio version, not a live performance or a cover. This was the only thing I found: http://www.wat.tv/video/simon-and-garfunkel-the-boxer-1430v_1430y_.html
Anyway, I just love this song. Especially from about 4:00 onwards. Not really sure why, but this song has been stuck in my head now every single morning.
So. yeah. Listen to them if you want. Tell me what you think. Give me random songs to listen to. Whatever.
...and wishing I was gone...
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