Huh?

do you ever just feel disillusioned to the world? like almost as if your mind is saying "what are you doing here?" it is kind of scary to feel like you don't fit. meaningless, or belonging-less. i have to write something creative for passover at the hersh's tomorrow. i am at a loss. is dancing my only artistic quality? i would gladly express myself through dance, but that sort of talent isn't exactly.. portable. i was just informed by mrs nicastro that my writing is D quality. I HATE THE CONCEPT OF GRADED WRITING. i can't help but let that encourage me to never write again ha, how depressing. blahhh this week has potential to be one of the best in a long long time, but i recently discovered that expectations don't always carry out the way they were planned.

and i miss emily friedman, that wild sweet love.

but we'll fight

the good seems fucking cheap,

and it teases you for weeks in its absence.

jeff friedman made me a CD and i love it dearly. why were the youth of the 60s and 70s so damn passionate and thriving, in comparison to us? i like letting emotions out of me. i think thats what they are made for, to be let out. i think tink tnk tk k.

Your Life, and My Life

You make me so tired. I want no part of this shit. What now?

Now I've been leaning towards a life far more caring,
thrown back through the dark with your eyes as my candles.

whipping me into a storm, shaking me down to the core

whose side are you on?

what side is this anyway?

put down your sword and crown

come lay with me on the ground

ima cut my hair and wash my feet. down the drain will go the blood and sting and pity. all thats left is the raw anger that lays on my red raw skin, red from the blood that is flowing down the drain along side the sting and pity. i will cut these locks, the ones who are withering with winter sadness. i will wash my new hair with vitamin D from the sun's shine. i will lay on your bed in that one strip of sunlight, the one that glistens deep within your understanding face muscles. that raw skin will heal into a calloused shield, defending my weaknesses. i will cradle the hands of these new friendships with tender love and care, and learn from all your kindness. the sting and pity will come back on those down swoops, but the cycle keeps on turning. on we go with being 'just fine' and loving what we got. i see the light in the eyes of kingdom spring- take me there.

you come beating like moth's wings, spastic and violently

ouch

God or Science or Whatever

It is pretty damn frightening when you find striking differences between yourself and another. This particular other is one who you supposedly bear close resemblance to, not only by the eyes but by the mind and heart as well. If you are so different from the person closest to you, then really who do we have with us in this roaming lonely world? Beyond the hopeless ponder of this question, I found a gleam of positivity. We are all snowflakes! (hello extremely cliché metaphor) But really, you go ahead and follow that crowd. Abide to the trends of fashion, the rules of society. Accept the norm, and conform to the majority. No matter how hard your efforts push you to be just the same, you will never escape your unique individuality. The human is a delicately composed masterpiece, hand crafted by science or God or whatever you chose to believe. Between the cool of my dad and the hot of my mom, I have found myself in the middle where both the boiling point and freezing point can be [mostly] avoided. I feel the rush of emotions when necessary and don't even consider the option to hold them back. (thank you mom) And I have found the power that a simple breathe and two attentive ears can give you. (thank you dad) I love my parents. More than God or science or the conformity of society, they have taught me what will (hopefully) guide me in dealing with a wide variety of circumstances throughout life.

I want to tell every single person exactly how I feel about them. YOU (all of you) don't know how much I respect you! Why is the fear of their reaction holding me back? Who the hell taught us to fear like this?!

AH and the beatniks! Too much to say, too many amsco cards to finish. Byebye blogger. The song of the day is 'imma buy you a drank' by.. t-pain. oooo-weeee-oooo.