Lauren: Day of the Bewilderbeast? You have much better taste than I thought...

So last night I was all "woohoo! last day of work!" and then Alex was like "woohoo! see you on monday!" Not cool.

I hate relationships. I wish everyone had the courage to ask anyone out, and if that person said no it wasn't a big deal and nobody cared. I wish I didn't care, at least.

Becca is getting married. What the hell is that all about? All of a sudden she's like "...my fiancee..." And I go "WHAT?". It's not that big of a deal but it is a little surprising.

I really hate parental restrictions. The stupid kind...right now the controls are filtering out stuff so aggressively I can't go read Lauren's Blog or Adam Wolf's Page. That makes me very mad. I mean, I'll be an adult in like two and a half months or so. I think what I really hate about the situation is that it will hardly change once I am 18. Bleh.

Wow that last post was creepy. I hope I don't start to write like that in the journal all the time. Eugh.

Funny story. Alex is telling me how he couldn't work at the Budget Theatre because one of the assistant managers talks a lot about silly little things. He went on about it for a while.

I realized that I really suck at poetry. None of it's any good. I'm not even sure if I like poetry in general. What a time to have that revelation, after like a bajillion creative writing courses.

I don't think I could teach something that requires people to improve slowly as the year goes on. Like writing or language. I'd just want to scream at everyone when they know nothing at the beginning, and then scream at them again at the end when they haven't learned enough to make them very good. German I...yuck. Maybe that's just an excuse for me to be a disgruntled, under-payed teacher that has no passion...

I was reading this pair of books called the Something of the something and the Parable of the Talents. It's about a very believable dystopic future, where the US just kinda collapses. Hah, I called that dystopic! Utopic, more like it! (Flaming anti-national joke for the day). Moral of the paragraph is they're really good books.

It was freezing tonight. I was sitting in the usually unbearably hot concessions stand with a jacket on and shivering.

Tomorrow is the monthly 1.x tournament, and I probably won't get enough sleep and have to come up with the deck the second before the tournament. Sheee-it.

Seriously though, I like how Magic has taken kind of a back-seat to everything in my life. Proves I'm addicted, but it's not hopeless.

*resists desire to insert smiley faces*

*realizes am using action stars in a post*

*thinks self is rather poor for doing so*

Have a good night. You'll wake up freezing in the cold morning under your flimsy summer sheets.

And you'll love it.

Went to a poetry slam tonight. This cool old guy won...he was kind of out of it, though, like hard to understand.

I need to start posting when I'm not so frickin' tired.

Ben was a bit of an ass at Fountain today. I dunno what was eating him. I can still get along with him but when people are rude it frustrates me. Not like "oh, he didn't wave to me when I passed him on Clairemont today" but like "you're ugly. you're stupid. No, stop talking." I can't stand that.

Lauren, if you're interested, I have The Places You Have Come To Fear The Most and their new one. Just in case you want them before you leave.

I feel kinda bad I didn't invite my sister along to the poetry slam. I don't really consider her part of my group of friends, but I think she felt left out.

Joe needs to not kill himself. Seriously, I reeeeally hope all this stuff is just talk. He seems like the kind of person who gets desensitized to things to a great degree. I doubt slapping him and really shouting at him would have the desired effect. I really worry about him. I know from my own experience that you can hardly take things that people say about their parents at face value, and I think that he dislikes them so much that he makes them hate him so it's easier. If you're reading this, Joe, I need you to talk to me. Suicide is not an option for you. Don't be so stupid to think that it's a way out and you're just another depressed teenager with mental health issues. You're my friend. I don't care if you don't think you'll go to hell or limbo or heaven or wherever. If you die, it's a hell for everyone else who cares about you. That might sound selfish, but it's true. Suicide is the most pitiful thing I can think of. It's not noble, it's sadistic and escapist. i'm here for you, I can help you get away but I will not let you get tips on it and drive pens into your arm. You are loved more by more people than you know.

Hey Linnea, you were right. What a prick I was at German Camp. You were right about everything.

Hey Eve, I'm sorry for the way I treated you after German Camp. I didn't feel bad about it, and I hope you didn't, but I felt like I had abused our trust and taken advantage of you. I really regret what we did, and I hope you'll let it slide.

What a sob session this is turning out to be...Well, might as well make the confession complete...

All the girls I knew when I was little and curious about "down there": Please don't hold it against me. I may be a horny teenager now but I respect other people and their boundaries. I was always a little embarassed about the way I acted when I was little, in most respects, so let me prove to you that I'm different. 'Cause I am, even if you can't tell.

Hey people who know me...send me your Blog URLs! I wanna know what you're feeling about stuff. Really, I do. I get really lonely out here in the boonies and never get to talk to anyone.

I really miss German Camp. Or more, the friends I have at German Camp. 'Thing is, I don't think I'd make as tight connections as I did Sophomore summer; that summer really can't be beat. Ever.

...At least not unless a certain someone really starts to show some mutual interest...

...but that probably won't happen.

A guy can dream, though, huh?

Well, I left my new journal at the Drive-in, so you're gonna have to settle for some olde-fchoole poetrye...

I just killed my television. Threw it out the window
with a heave.
Watched it set like the sun
my sun
in the windowsill.
Why did I offer it my time.
It's black screen
inky black
swallows drive
emotion.
Devours humanity and life.
Why did I love it?
Because it gave me the illusion of not taking?
Or was it that I took it's Fate for granted.
I don't want to be the victim,
to say
I was seduced by it's easy mindless-ness.
But what other explanation is there?
When did we stop seeing the sunset,
and start staring into a fucking box?

*polite applause*

Hell yes, children. Now THAT is a bad poem. I was looking back at all of the poetry I wrote at camp and during my junior year...and it's all bad. NONE of it is any good. That one was only good 'cause I swore in it. You know, be a rebel and all that. Maybe abstract writing is not for me. I like it, but poetry always sounds so goddamned lame.

For anyone out there who likes good things, you should check out A Mark A Mission A Battle A Scar by Dashboard Confessional. In my opinion, their best album yet.

I might be joining another band! Becca's into heavier rock and she needs a drummer, so I might take like a month of lessons to get back into it. Mom also said to me...
"don't you think you should start with the guitar if you're going to?"
...so HELL YEAH!

Music, here I come.

It's nice and cool today, I'm wearing long pants and a long sleeved shirt AND a JACKET.

...and no underpants.

The girls name was Kinzi. Stupid me.

I said I'd post a poem. That'll have to wait 'till later, though, as right now I'm talking out of my ass in my mom's office. I really just don't have anything better to do.

Marching bands are annoying.
"Cadence! March, march, march!"

...and then the drums just keep going and going and gooooooo-ooooo-ooooing...

..woof.

Man, the summer's almost over. I can't imagine what the hell I'll be doing this time next year.

Hey kids, you should email me++++++++++++Fuzman666@aol.com

*Rant*

What the hell is going wrong with the world? People are dying close to ever day in Iraq, and that's just peacekeepers, or whatever (I'm sure none of them are UN, but for lack of a better word). If close to fifty Brits have died, how many Iraqis have? I don't care if they pushed people out of their way that one day in '95, and spilled their drink on a Kurd, and look we caught them and released bloody photos of their bullet riddled bodies this proves the war is a success, I want the troops OUT. I never wanted them in there in the first place, and I don't feel like spending the rest of my life justifying what Pres. Bush did. I don't like the fact that he thinks he's good enough to be president. A lot of people need to stop doing what they're doing and start encouraging people who are good at it to do it.

Phew.

That Bush, what a character.

I hate marching bands.

I miss Lauren.

She hasn't even left for school yet but still...

..but maybe she'll read this! *perks head up*

"Lauren"...*types furiously*..."I miss you already. You are so energetic and honest to your friends that I am running out of things to say that make this sentence sound like it's been furiously typed..."

Enough of that, it's too late for such things.

Note to self: Download "where's Jerry Lewis" by the Frogs.

Sierra, Alex, Kirri (spelled correctly? correct name, even?) and Jessica came by the Drive-in this/last ngiht to watch American Wedding. Their car wouldn't start. Silly girls. It's good to be friends with people again, after a long, lonely summer. I can't wait to talk to all the sophomores and juniors that are cool. Freshmen too...I gue-(long, drawn out "e")-ss.

It really was tragic what happened to the first post. I was dissapointed with the world after that...

NO WORRIES!

Life goes on. I keep on forgetting stuff at the drive-in. I've left three shirts, a nalgene, and a notebook there.

Next post will contain a poem.

It might mean something...

it might not.

It might be sad...

it might not.

It might be new...

it might not.

It might be good...

well, at least it'll be good!

'Night, all.

So... I poured my heart out.

I saved.

The computer said it saved.

It did not save.

*tear*