|
m&ms487
|
::
2008 13 March :: 9.31am
The Changing Time
They come FLOODING out of the Buildings: It is time.
I.
I see the small people Scramble
Hating the cold burning the Inside of their Noses,
Hating their own body for turning against them.
I need a tissue, please!
My nose is spurting inappropriate mucus!
II.
There goes one, Huddling inside his hood,
Like a turtle, afraid the air, the atmosphere
Will endanger him.
Perhaps he's right.
With the smoke stack only a few hundred feet away,
And a thousand [probably more, I'm bad at estimations]
Cars; Rolling into the parking lot
Who would want to breathe this air?
It's not a choice.
Maybe gas masks will become
As popular, as fashionable,
As carting around 16 ounces of water
In dispensable plastic bottles.
I firmly believe:
We make our own Destiny.
III.
There, Another,
Her pants are screamingly PINK!
I'm sure I can almost make out a shirt that SHOUTS:
KISS ME I'M IRISH!
When I bet she's more French than anything,
She can't even hold her own beer.
IV.
Now just a few Remain,
Wandering, Aimlessly,
But with Direction in Mind.
V.
Now, all are gone; They've scurried themselves
To their destination: to their destiny.
1 ::watch me bleed:: |
::cut me open...::
|
|
m&ms487
|
::
2008 10 March :: 9.38am
Class in a few minutes. Then on to filling out scholarship applications. Money.
Why is it that we feel it's necessary to have the largest budget deficit ever to kill people, but we can't spend that same money on, oh, say, education, or converting every single coal plant into using biofuel?
Spring Break was last week. I didn't do much except work forty hours. Cranky people. Why is everyone so cranky?
The sun stays out until eight now. That should help me adjust my sleeping schedule. I was beginning to miss the sun.
Waves of nostalgia.
I had fresh out-of-the-oven brownies with french vanilla ice cream on top last night. It was like heaven.
::cut me open...::
|
|
m&ms487
|
::
2008 24 February :: 11.13am
I just finished writing a super cheesy autobiographical essay for my English 201 class. Something along the lines of: "Literature is humaness, it is unique" blah blah blah.
Shoot me.
Why does my sincerity always sound so insincere?
Easy day. One class. Brother-in-Training interviews (3) tonight. Coffee. Fundraising committee meeting. E-Board.
What am I going to do with the next seven hours of my LIFE!?!
This is so exciting.
::cut me open...::
|
|