Silence

I shout but nothing comes out.
I whisper but everyone can hear.

Have you fed the fish?

Today was not a good day. The phrase "not a good day" is actually an understatement. I have never truly felt so unhappy in one day. By third period, I just wanted to leave. Who was I kidding? It felt as if every person in the human population jabbed a knife into my kidney and left me for dead. When I ponder-it was mainly academic factors of why I hated today but still. In English, my teacher made a comment on my vocabulary which I found to be extremely harsh. Like, I have a decent vocabulary; and I am part of the anomaly of people who actually use SAT words in my mundane conversations. Then in Calc, I got a 78 percent on a test that I studied for four hours on. So I basically was kicked in the balls, and once it started to be relieved, someone else kicked me in the balls. Fifth period slightly took away my problems, but not completely. But still, that comment made me feel fucking humiliated. And how can she say I need help on vocabulary when I sit next to the kid who starts sentences on essays with "In conclusion," or the one across the room who doesn't even have subject-verb agreement down. Maybe I am in denial, but even so: three-quarters of the population could not tell you when to use his or her versus their. It is more necessary in life to no things such as when something is singular or plural, right? I don't know. Ugh.

Song

I need to blog, but I don't want to think. I would usually talk about something on my mind-but nothing is. This is what happens when I don't get a day of solitude. It seriously is an essential part of my life. And it pisses me off when people take advantage of it. My mom does this a great deal. On Saturday, she will stay home until like noon, and during this time I seriously just want and need to be alone. I seriously do not care who you are, I need silence to think. And even if you aren't making a noise-your presence is ear-shattering to me. So this is what caps everything up:

"The Sound of Silence"-Simon and Garfunkel

Staffers

ASDF nothing works anymore....

I am sick of incompetent staff writers. Nothing seems to get through they're small naive brains. I am sick of every time I give them constructive criticism, they cry or complain. Welcome to the world of journalism. Who said journalism was a fun easy-going world? It's cut-throat. I am so sick of babying. I have no time for this and now I have to write a copy and two modules. To top it off, I have no dominate for my volleyball spread; and the next two days I am having to spend nights romancing my history book and the Scarlet Letter. GAH! DOES ANYONE CARE?

Swarming

Writing, may it be story essays or blog entries, is a very difficult thing for me. I am not a bad writer, and I love to write. But my head is like Times Square, I have about 50 thoughts on one subject and it's difficult to see each one in its entirety. I am only able to skim the surface and can never dig deeper. Instead, I hit the thought and then hurry to the next-digressing as much as possible. As I go throughout my day, I always am thinking "how would I narrate this in a story?" or an even geekier "what am I going to talk about in my blog today?" But as I go through the day what was once my opinion on, say, evolution, is now about generational gaps. By the time I get to the computer I want people to see BOTH of these topics, but right as I click "new post", the topics weave together and none of the profound statements I had make sense. It's all just jargon.

In the spirit of digression, lord I hate writing about myself for school.

Hoppipolla

This morning I wanted to be a kid again. As I woke from bed at 5:40, I wanted to do things like a seven year old- treat each mundane task with excitement. As I took my shower, I let my imagination run wild. I scribbled my goals for the day, the name of my future love, and my name on the condensation of the glass. I went underneath the shower head and pretended to be under a waterfall in Africa. I took into account of every drop that came from the spout. When I brushed my teeth, I pretended the toothbrush was a monorail. When I dressed, I pretended I was dressing for some significant occasion. But their was no kidding myself. Today would be like all the rest. 0. 1. 3. 5. Nothing fresh. But a little shot of imagination every now and then can't hurt some one.

September

"The only people who are happy are the people who you don't know well."

True.




In other news, I am watching High School Musical 2 as a way to not be killed.