Things That Don't Matter

So this semester I’m in my college’s (Northeastern) creative writing class. We started with poetry which is… not exactly ideal but whatever. So we had to write one shorter poem and one longer one. I was not convinced that either poem was any good, but today in class we went over our short poems and I got a response very different from what I’d expected. We went around the class and each read the poem of the person next to us, when it came time for someone to read mine a very pretty girl across the table from me audibly whispered to her friend, “This is the best one,” or something like that (we had all read each others’ poems before class), and also at the end of class someone came up and told me mine had been the best. I was a little taken aback as I had thought it was average at best and I still have problems with it but I guess it might actually be fairly decent. The longer ones we haven’t gotten to yet so I don’t know whether it’s as good, I highly doubt it though, I don’t like it much but it’s something.

Acoustic Reflex

I’ve been listening to all the songs
I didn’t write about you
And wishing there were songs
That you didn’t write about me.

____________________________________________________

Odyssey

Death once came for me
Death sounded like a kick drum
And a choked cymbal
And death looked like an airbag.

Death rolled me
I held tight as the world turned
Upside down, then right side up
And then stopped.

Death burned
The smoke stung my eyes
And choked me
As my dog cried.

But death didn’t get me
Cautiously I explored the feeling
In my limbs and tested their movement
As shock faded the radio played.

My dog thrashed behind me
Her leash caught and tangled
As I released her she bolted
And together from death we ran.

Soooo… yeah. Not much else really. College is fun, most of the time. Might have a short story or something soon, hard to predict really.

Okay, so I was thinking to myself, I’m really bored and don’t really have anything to do, I guess I should write an update because I haven’t in like forever. Then I remembered that I haven’t yet watched today’s Daily Show and Colbert Report, so I’ll be getting to work on this in another 40 or so minutes (which you of course won’t notice because it’ll all go up together at once, but there is actually a 40 minute gap in between the end of this sentence and the beginning of the next one, which will probably be marked by a rather abrupt change of topic). Alright, so I finished The Daily Show and Colbert Report, but now I’ve remembered that yesterday I started playing Half Life 2 over from the beginning again, so there’s another gap of probably a few hours here. Not actually a few hours, I got to Ravenholm which I’ve always kind of hated and stopped there for now. Thing is I don’t really feel like writing anymore, rather I feel like watching something again, so here’s another gap of probably at least 40 minutes. Annnnd actually it was 2 hours because I chose to watch High Fidelity on Hulu which was I would say a good use of two hours and I highly recommend it. Okay, now I’m really going to get down to it. So far this summer I’ve… well I went to Italy and England but no one wants to hear about that. It was fun, the alternate settings might get used in some things I write, that’s about all I have to say as far as that goes. Summer’s gone back to being what it usually is, hot and boring. I came back hoping it could at least not be boring, but I should learn not to hope for things because it never works out.

Because I went on vacation immediately after graduation and did my best to forget everything about home while I was away it wasn’t until the other day that it really sunk in that I’m done with high school. September will come, and I won’t go back. I won’t see those teachers again, I’ll not fight my way through those halls, or ever again talk to the people I only sort of knew. High school is I would say almost entirely responsible (you could say to blame) for my current personality and mindset, and I’m leaving it all behind. It got me started thinking about how things change, and saying that is so cliche I sort of flinched when I typed it. But really though, I’m completely different than I was four years ago when I was a freshman, everyone is. Someday I’ll be different all over again. Someday I’ll come home and my dog won’t be there to greet me, someday home won’t be this house anymore. It’s… scary.

That’s about it then I guess. I have this one story I’ve been working on for a while but I’m totally stuck and it might be a while longer before I get it finished. In the mean time I might throw together a ye olde (meaning like a year or so ago) style 2-3 page lighthearted conversational type thing. I haven’t done one for a while, the last one would probably have been The Proposal all the way back in October, and I’ve been feeling kind of like getting back to that sort of thing.

Wow, this is possibly the worst I’ve been yet, although maybe not quite as bad as I was over the summer. The month of February was very up and down and all over the place so I really didn’t get anything done other than spend way too much time pondering unresolvable issues, or at least issues that could in no way be resolved through pondering.

Something I did the other day that I feel is worth mentioning: a few friends and I went to see a Jukebox the Ghost show last Saturday. It was awesome. If you don’t know Jukebox the Ghost then you absolutely must go listen to their album Live and Let Ghosts, it is 100% fantastic. Also at said show were the bands Skybox and Tally Hall, neither of which I had heard anything about before the start of their tour with JTG. Skybox’s music can be pretty much summed up in one word, awesome, and Tally Hall can be done in two, weird and awesome. If you haven’t ever listened to either of them of which the chances are pretty high then again you absolutely must go check them out. You can download Skybox’s song “In a Dream” for free from their website http://www.skyboxmusic.com. For Tally Hall I recommend listening to the entirety of their album Marvin’s Marvelous Mechanical Museum not all of which I’m in love with but as a whole I think it works pretty well.

I also have some fiction for today, I’m not really sure I like it all that much but whatever it’s something.

Red Light in the Middle of Nowhere

The automatic transmission shifted into a lower gear and the engine revved as the car accelerated up an incline. The road here writhed like a snake, cutting through the thick woods on all sides, dodging around and at times darting over hills, skirting mountains that were no longer visible in the deep blackness that shrouded the landscape. The car’s high beams penetrated the darkness, illuminating the skeletal trees, and the solitary faded yellow line that ran unevenly along the center of the at times rough road. He hadn’t seen another car pass in what felt like a very long time, though driving has a tendency to distort ones sense of such arbitrary measurements as time, and distance.

He felt very, very alone. The CD that had been playing on the car stereo before had reached its end and he hadn’t bothered to restart it or find something else. The car was silent, apart from the fluctuating, muffled growl that came from the engine. The lights on the dashboard glowed softly, the neon orange speedometer pointer wavered between 45 and 50mph, an almost dangerous speed for the windy road on which he was driving, but the speed kept him alert. It was late, and he had been up a very long time. The darkened landscape which if illuminated would have revealed little more than an expanse of forest covered mountains created an atmosphere of complete isolation that ate away at him, he felt more alone than he had in a long time.

He glanced at the person sitting in the passenger seat. She was asleep. Her chest rose and fell with a slow and steady rhythm indicative of deep sleep. While he would have loved to continue gazing at her chest, garbed in a wonderfully low cut top, he pulled his eyes back to the road. He wasn’t sure exactly when it was that she had drifted off, it had probably been at least an hour, maybe two, since a word had passed between them. She was lucky to be able to fall asleep and miss the rest of the ride. He considered being annoyed at her for abandoning him to face the darkness and silence on his own but decided he should save his annoyance for situations that more deserved it. He didn’t mind driving all that much, although sleep would be nice. It wasn’t like they would have talked much if she had been awake anyway, it had been a while since they’d had a real conversation, like the ones they used to which could go on for hours if allowed.

She never ceased to confuse him, he had long since given up making any assumptions about the nature of their relationship or how she felt about him or even at this point how he felt about her. He found it easier to just not think about it, go along with whatever seemed to be working, drive the car.

The headlights passed over a bright yellow sign at the edge of the road, warning of a traffic light ahead. That was odd, a traffic light all the way out here didn’t make much sense. Another few hundred feet or so along the road the light appeared around a bend. He could see that it was red, and began to brake. He noticed that the light was solid, not blinking like most would at this time of night, this far from anything. He stopped at the white line painted onto the road. The intersecting road was much newer, the blacktop almost seemed to shine under the glare of the high beams, he could see to either side of the intersection that two vibrant yellow lines ran along it with reflectors placed periodically. The road to either side of the intersection was tinged green by the light, while he was bathed in red. Despite it’s sleek appearance and it’s green light the new road was similarly void of travelers.

The light stayed red. He wondered who on earth had thought it would be a good idea to put this light here, it seemed like a complete waste of money. There was no necessity for a light controlling two roads that no one seemed to travel. Hell even a stop sign seemed like more than was needed. At the most a single light blinking red in one direction and yellow in another would have sufficed. What hung before him here appeared to be the works, two lights faced in each direction, every one decked out with the full three colours. The ones facing him stayed red, and still no one drove past. He thought about whether he should just run the light, he doubted there was anyone else around for miles, let alone any sort of law enforcement. He didn’t though, it had only been a minute or so, surely the light would change soon.

He let his head fall back against the seat, it was firm and uncomfortable, probably with good reason. He tilted his head to look at his passenger, still asleep, but now he noticed her begin to stir. He figured that the car having stopped and the red glow of the light were what was waking her up. A minute or so passed and she opened her eyes slightly and murmured, still half asleep, “We there?”

“No, we’re stopped at a red light.”

“Mhm,” she said without any real recognition, and seemed to go back to sleep.

Another minute or so passed, his eyes began to feel heavy, and still the light did not change.

“This is one hell of a long light.”

Her voice, sharp and clear, startled him. He turned to see that she was now sitting up, fully awake and examining the surrounding area.

“How long have you been waiting here?”

“Dunno, few minutes or so.”

“Why don’t you just run it? There’s no one around.”

“I’m sure it’ll change at any moment.”

Another minute passed, and then another.

“Okay, I’ve never encountered a light this long in my life, clearly the damn thing is broken, so just go already.”

“It’s a red light, you don’t just go,” he said, not exactly sure why he was contradicting as he had thought the exact same things himself.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Not one single person has passed by while we’ve been sitting here like idiots, what possible repercussions could there be for running this one clearly broken and entirely pointless light in the middle of nowhere? If we don’t get a move on we’ll be late.”

“If we’re late it’s because you took forever to get ready to leave, I’d said we should leave a good hour before we actually managed to make it out of the door.”

“We left perfectly on time, leaving any earlier would have been pointless.”

“Clearly not, seeing as now you’re saying we’ll be late.”

“That’s because you’re just sitting here wasting time!”

“It’s a red light, you have to account for things like this, if you leave at the last minute then any delay turns into being late, and that is no fault of mine.”

“Oh, so when I’m going to go somewhere, I should factor in the time it takes to sit at red lights in the middle of nowhere that don’t ever turn.”

“That’s hyperbolizing it a little, but yes.”

“That’s completely and utterly ridiculous. Why are you being so impossible?”

“Oh, I’m the impossible one. That’s funny, I mean that’s really just hilarious.”

“What on earth are you talking about? I’m not the one refusing to drive across an empty road.”

“I… I don’t even know. You want me to go? Fine, I’ll go.”

“Than-”

He floored the accelerator, the tires screeched on the road and the car lurched forward. He brought it up to 60mph but then a twist in the road caused him to have to brake suddenly and slow down to about 45.

“That was uncalled for,” she said without any sort of tonal inflection.

“Sorry.”

“Do you know where we are, is it much further?”

“I really don’t have a very clear idea. Probably not too far.”

They sat in an uneasy silence for the next several minutes. He turned his head slightly so that he could see her face in the corner of his vision while still being able to keep an eye on the road.

“Do you love me?”

_____________________________________

One somewhat unfortunate result of the past few months is that from now on whenever I write a story about a male character and a female character inevitably someone or probably several someones will ask me “Is this about you and…?” To answer that question, no. (This time.)

So right now it’s the Friday after Thanksgiving. Well technically it’s Saturday but I don’t count it as that until I’ve gone to sleep for some period of time between 3-7am. I’m sitting on the couch in the quite sizable living room of my uncle’s beach house in Delaware where my extended family have convened for the past several days for Thanksgiving. Everyone else is at this point in bed leaving me alone here to fall asleep when and where I wish which will probably be right here and soon. The lights are all out and it is dark except for the fire burning on the hearth and this laptop projecting on my face. The CD that was playing on the stereo system has reached it’s end yet the music still echoes in my head. It is quiet except for the crackling of the fire and the whistling of the fierce wind blowing outside and seeping in through the gaps around a not so well sealed door making me all the more thankful for the warm glow emanating from the fireplace. This week has been fun, being with me extended family usually is. I’m a little surprised though at how enjoyable it turned out to be because I expected that everything that was bothering me back at home would stay on my mind, yet for the past couple days it’s all seemed so distant. Probably because it is. College applications is one of the things to which I refer, and I have to have one of those done by Tuesday so I should be super stressed right now but I’m not. The other thing that I expected would make this week miserable is what made last week miserable which is essentially that for the past seven weeks I’ve lived the plot of thousands of books, movies, and TV shows and right now I’m either at the unhappy ending or the plot twist thrown in to extend things another 50 pages, half hour, or season. Which of those it is I have no clue. I was hoping to be able to use this time away to think hard about it and decide which of those it is and what my course of action should be as a result, but since I got here thoughts about it feel slippery, I’m not able to hold them in my mind and concentrate and I don’t feel as bad about it either. I know though that when I get back to school Monday it will all hit me like a freight train and I probably won’t be ready for it, not that anyone could ever really be ready to be hit by a freight train. So that leaves me here and now, not sure what I should be thinking, what I should do when I get back, and not really able to care. My one prevailing thought is that I wish my co-star were here, and although that is a pleasant fantasy it is in no way helpful. All I can do is lie back, and drift to sleep.

So the past four weeks (as of tomorrow) have been the most tumultuous, confusing, and at the same time wonderful weeks of my life, and of course I can’t write about any of it. Sometimes I wish I hadn’t told people I know about this site because it means that I have to think about what I say, and that’s not what the internet is about, although it would also mean not having much of a readership. And no, it is not anything illegal. It’s my excuse for not having done much of anything including update this site for the past month and that’s all I’m going to say. Although actually I’ve been much better about this recently, at least more so than over the summer. And now for something completely different: I found someone I hate almost as much as Rush Limbaugh.

No... me.

Glenn Beck is about the biggest media whore I have ever encountered (not size wise, that still goes to Rush). I don’t understand how anyone can watch his show without feeling sick to their stomach or bursting out laughing. A couple of weeks ago I was over at a friend’s house and flipping through channels we decided to put on Beck because we thought it would be funnier than the episode of South Park airing opposite on Comedy Central. Really, if he wants to be taken seriously he should probably give up on the shirt, tie, blazer, jeans combo, and also stop making faces and crying so much. The episode we saw featured Lord Christopher Walter Monckton who I thought looked like a frog and spoke less sensibly. He was on the show to talk about how a UN climate control treaty is the basis for a world communist government. He provided absolutely no support, rather spent the entire time predicting doom for the U.S. if our evil overlord Obama signs it. The guest who sat opposite him wasn’t memorable because his job was to be the “opposing viewpoint”, and on Fox “opposing viewpoint” really means less extremist, but fundamentally the same. When he wasn’t being shushed by Beck or Monckton he was expressing the same view just less assertively. This is clearly meant to create the illusion that everyone feels the same way about this, and anyone who falls for it is such an idiot I’m surprised they know how to turn on the TV. I’m pretty sure it’s safe to say that most episodes of Glenn’s program follow this same format of idiot guest vs. slightly less assertive idiot guest with Glenn Beck in the middle making stupid comments and crying. I’m afraid watching more of the show to confirm my theory could have adverse effects on my mental health. I sincerely hope that he really is just a media whore and doesn’t really believe what he says, because if he really does I find that a little scary. Unfortunately even if he just says stuff for the attention there are people out there who believe him, all those “real Americans” I always have to hear about. Am I not an American because I don’t agree with your opinion? It’s when I hear people like Beck that I seriously consider moving to Europe as an adult… and telling everyone I’m Canadian.

The title of this post is ironic because the weather around here this summer has been anything but dry. A side note: I really hate coming up with titles. Sometimes I’ll have a great idea for something to write about, open up a new post page and then stare at the title box for a half hour trying to think of something by which point I forget all the clever witty lines that I had prepared for the post and am left with nothing but a general idea which is pretty much square one. Anyway, this post is meant to address the lack of posts in recent months. I want to say that I’ve been busy, but I haven’t, I’ve really just been lazy. As I predicted back in January with my post “Winter” and as I commented on in the post before the one before this one this summer has not been the greatest and as I also said before it’s hard to write when you’re feeling depressed. A big part of the problem is the AP summer work I have this year. Every time I think about updating I think about AP work and how I really should be working on that instead, but then because I really don’t want to do my AP summer work I go back to watching whatever on Hulu. The other day I even resorted to watching Family Guy. Again a side note so I may briefly explain my problem with Family Guy: I admit, I do find many of the pop culture references funny, but they’re hardly ever connected to the plot of an episode, and the character development is shameful. On The Simpsons, the spiritual predecessor to Family Guy, I care about the characters. Homer, although often dumb, is a believable and likable character, as are the rest of Simpson family, and as a result I care about what happens to them in an episode. However on Family Guy the characters are unrealistic and generally unpleasant people and I would not the least bit care if an episode plot involved them all being run over by a truck. But again I digress. I’m going to try to get myself back onto an at least one post per week schedule. I also have some good story ideas that I’ve been delaying getting to work on, so I’ll try to get on with those.

Wow, it’s been almost a month. I’ve been getting steadily worse about this and I’ll try to correct that in the future. The end of this school year has been a little hectic and every time I think about updating I think of something else I should be doing instead, then when I finish that I’m tired (as in, more tired than I normally am anyways), and I go to bed. The added complications of being sick, having my grandmother stay at the house for two weeks, and totaling the family minivan did not help much.

So anyway, I had a few thoughts I wanted to share quickly. Today is June 6th, the 65th anniversary of D-Day. Know how Google puts up the specially designed logos for special days like holidays and such, guess what Google’s celebrating today?

25 years too many!

That’s right, 25 years ago today Tetris was released, and I guess in Google’s opinion that trumps what is just about the most famous battle in the history of the world. In their defense, dead bodies on a beach twisted to spell out Google would probably not have gone down too well. Probably the best thing to do would be to have left it alone completely, because instead of just saying we really don’t care that today’s the 65th anniversary of D-Day this says we think this stupid annoying game with colored blocks is more important. I guess you could say that it’s the single largest and ongoing genocide against digital colored blocks the world has ever seen. But the fact of the matter is, Tetris is stupid, I wouldn’t play it if it were the only video game left on earth. It has no point and maneuvering those stupid little blocks around is annoying as hell.

On another note, a while ago I got Rockband and I wrote an entry about it. One of the things that I discussed in the entry was whether or not it actually teaches you how to play the drums. I have since then spent a considerable amount of time playing the drums in Rockband and yesterday got a chance to try my hand at a friend’s drum kit. The result: I did okay. I’m not going to say I was really good or knew anything about what I was doing but I could play some beats that sounded pretty okay as well as invent some while  playing along with music. I definitely could not have done it at all without having played Rockband. So, definitive conclusion: yes, Rockband will help you to play the drums. It won’t make you an expert, but you should be able to sit down and play simple stuff  pretty decently.

So the other day I experienced something that really gave me a lot of insight into our government and allowed me to be a bit more sympathetic towards them. Whenever there’s a problem that the government must fix, there are always flaws in their plan. When the plan goes public, everyone goes nuts. People say these flaws are so obvious, how did they not notice them, is our entire government full of idiots? These people often include me. Hell I’m probably one of the first to jump all over a flawed policy, especially if it’s a flawed Republican policy (is there any other kind?). But the other day I learned that it’s not like that at all. I was presented with my own problem to fix, and when I reached the end I found I much more understood the way things probably work. The Situation: In my history class we were given two assignments and a day and a class period to work on them. One of them was just a busy work type homework thing that should be done overnight so you could work on the other more in-depth project during that class period. However, neither assignment would be collected until the end of class, during which you could work on either. Naturally, I totally forgot about both of them, leaving me with only one 52 minute class period to complete them. Then of course earlier in the day we have a lock down drill, cutting all the rest of the day’s classes short. I now have roughly 35 minutes to complete both of the assignments. I started with the busywork, because it was worth more points than the other. It took me roughly 20 minutes to complete, leaving the other assignment only 15 minutes. This second assignment was far more complicated than the first. We were given a scenario and asked to provide an FDR-like solution. The situation was that textbook companies had stopped selling books to the schools because the schools took forever to pay them. The textbooks that students were using were now 8 years old. We had to come up with a plan that would solve the immediate crisis and then protect against this happening again in the future. Sound familiar? I’m not going to go into what my plan was, but I had a basic idea of what to do, however the assignment required much more detail. As I wrote out my plan I realized that there were several obvious flaws with it, but I only had five minutes left of class before it would be collected. I figured that my plan was good enough to at least get me a 90, even if it wasn’t a totally realistic solution. I got it back a few days ago, with the expected 90 and some notes pointing out where my plan wouldn’t work, and I had this epiphany. Faced with a problem I didn’t really understand and not a lot of time to solve it I came up with something that could possibly work, but was in no way perfect, but enough to get me credit for having done it. People who sit around at home and complain about how bad a job the government is doing do so because they have time to sit and mull things over after the fact. The government has to do it on the spot with an enormous amount of pressure and whatever complications are thrown at them, so have a little sympathy.

So the question that’s on everybody’s minds, “How the hell does this genius come up with all this fantastic stuff? Where does he pull it all from? Has he done the things he writes about, does he sit secluded for hours on end and dream it up, does it come to him in his sleep? I sure wish I knew so that maybe I could be like him.” Don’t tell me you weren’t thinking it. It’s a rather complex question, and deserves a rather complex answer. It’s funny because I actually consider myself rather uninspired. The stories I write are about average people doing average things. Well, except for that one I wrote about the war veteran who shot the kids playing in the street in front of his house. I honestly don’t know where I got that one from. But other than that, it doesn’t seem like they would be very interesting to read, seeing as you could just step away from your computer and go do the stuff that’s in them yourself, and still people like it (or so I’ve been told). So, how do I come up with it? It doesn’t seem like it would really be that hard to do does it? It’s not like I’m dreaming up fantasy worlds, I’m taking people in this world in ordinary situations and giving them rather dull lines to say to each other. Well if you think that you’re wrong. What I’m doing is exploring the human circumstance and it is very very difficult. Or it would be if I wasn’t a genius. Here’s how I do it. Seeing as all my writing is based on real life situations, real life is where my inspiration comes from. Actually, not my real life so much as other peoples. None of what I’ve written about has ever happened to me, although some aspects are taken directly from real life. There’s always at least one character who is meant to represent me, or at least contains some aspect of my personality, it helps me connect and write about them better. In most of the stories it’s pretty obvious who I am because there’s only two characters and one of them is a girl, but in a few, such as The Basement, it might be a little trickier. I think I might write a story with a lot of characters and see if you can spot me, a literary Where’s Waldo. Generally I get ideas when I’m not doing anything, or doing something that doesn’t require much thought, such as walking the dog, or lying in bed before I go to sleep. I don’t write them down or anything, they just sort of sit there and I’ll mull them over and gradually they’ll gather substance. This is an ongoing process so generally I’ll have about 3 to 4 going around at different stages of development. Then one will reach a point where I’m really excited about it or it seems to have enough substance to write about and I’ll sit down and write it. Generally it’ll go down on the page all at once, and after a few minor adjustments it’s ready for prime time. And that is how the magic happens.

In case you hadn’t noticed I’m totally out of ideas right now and it’s been over a week since my last update so I needed something and I figured this would do.

By popular demand, here is the poem I wrote last year for my English class that everyone absolutely loved (especially my teacher, resulting in a 26/25).

I Had a Poem

I had a poem
It was four pages long
It was about living a day, just one day, in my life
I wrote it immediately
It was done by the end of the day
The words just seemed to flow and there it was

Last night I gave up on it
I just couldn’t do it
I couldn’t stand up and read it
I knew I wouldn’t be able to

I thought it was my chance
My chance to share all my thoughts with the world
But I realized I couldn’t do it
Never all at once, maybe not at all
Even if I could
It was depressing
And that’s not what I’m going for

I wanted it to be perfect
Like the ones we read in class
I wanted it to be funny, but sad
I wanted it to be captivating, awe-inspiring
But reading it I was unsure it would be any of those
And that uncertainty tore me apart from the inside out

Is this really the world we live in?
Where I cannot complete an assignment for fear of being judged?
We’ll I’m not going to rant
That was what the other one was about
And that’s partly why I gave up on it

Well now I have a problem
I’ve got two minutes till English and I’ve got nothing
I’ve got killer writer’s block
I could write about the drooling idiots in my Spanish class
It would go something like this:

I feel sorry for my Spanish teacher
It’s Spanish three
And these kids can barely say “hola”
I feel like yelling at them
And occasionally I try
But my voice is drowned by another flood of stupid questions
I guess I shouldn’t care
I don’t have to do any work

No, might offend someone
I could write about my dog
No, not interesting at all
I could write about soccer
But I don’t play anymore
I could write about war and/or peace
Way too cliché

It should have a message but not be preachy
It should make you think
When I read it
Everyone should know its good
Even if they don’t know why
I want to look into the faces of my audience
And see that I have changed their lives
I miss my old poem
But I can’t go back now

Oh god the bell
Even if I had an idea I could never write it now
Did I really not complete the most interesting assignment I’ve had all year?
And possibly ever?
No
I did complete it
But as I said, I gave up on that poem

True story, I wrote that in my Spanish class and finished up in the couple minutes before the final bell for English. Everyone was pretty impressed. It’s funny to look back on it now because this website is entirely about sharing my thoughts with the world, although not in person. Also looking back I don’t think the first one I wrote was that good either. I’m not sure how well this reads on paper, it was designed to be read aloud, so if I get around to it I might put up an audio version.