BLAH
APs SUCK! IB is soooooooooooooo much better and worth my time. I made sure to tell them so. ^^
One cool thing...there was a really neat poem that was in the English one by Edward Field called "Icarus". I thought it was brilliant and well-written and just awesome, so I'm posting it. ^^
One good thing aside from AP exams is that I got a small break, and for a little while I felt pretty good. Except for running my head into various things that 1) hurt and 2) are harder than my head. And I should probably rethink attaching my cell phone to my keychain that way when I say I'm on my way home and driving, the jingle of me playing with my keys can't be heard...LoLo. At least I was told that might be a good idea, haha.
"Icarus "
Only the feathers floating around the hat
Showed that anything more spectacular had occurred
Than the usual drowning. The police preferred to ignore
The confusing aspects of the case,
And the witnesses ran off to a gang war.
So the report filed and forgotten in the archives read simply
“Drowned,” but it was wrong: Icarus
Had swum away, coming at last to the city
Where he rented a house and tended the garden.
“That nice Mr. Hicks” the neighbors called,
Never dreaming that the gray, respectable suit
Concealed arms that had controlled huge wings
Nor that those sad, defeated eyes had once
Compelled the sun. And had he told them
They would have answered with a shocked, uncomprehending stare.
No, he could not disturb their neat front yards;
Yet all his books insisted that this was a horrible mistake:
What was he doing aging in a suburb?
Can the genius of the hero fall
To the middling stature of the merely talented?
And nightly Icarus probes his wound
And daily in his workshop, curtains carefully drawn,
Constructs small wings and tries to fly
To the lighting fixture on the ceiling:
Fails every time and hates himself for trying.
He had thought himself a hero, had acted heroically,
And dreamt of his fall, the tragic fall of the hero;
But now rides commuter trains,
Serves on various committees,
And wishes he had drowned.
One cool thing...there was a really neat poem that was in the English one by Edward Field called "Icarus". I thought it was brilliant and well-written and just awesome, so I'm posting it. ^^
One good thing aside from AP exams is that I got a small break, and for a little while I felt pretty good. Except for running my head into various things that 1) hurt and 2) are harder than my head. And I should probably rethink attaching my cell phone to my keychain that way when I say I'm on my way home and driving, the jingle of me playing with my keys can't be heard...LoLo. At least I was told that might be a good idea, haha.
"Icarus "
Only the feathers floating around the hat
Showed that anything more spectacular had occurred
Than the usual drowning. The police preferred to ignore
The confusing aspects of the case,
And the witnesses ran off to a gang war.
So the report filed and forgotten in the archives read simply
“Drowned,” but it was wrong: Icarus
Had swum away, coming at last to the city
Where he rented a house and tended the garden.
“That nice Mr. Hicks” the neighbors called,
Never dreaming that the gray, respectable suit
Concealed arms that had controlled huge wings
Nor that those sad, defeated eyes had once
Compelled the sun. And had he told them
They would have answered with a shocked, uncomprehending stare.
No, he could not disturb their neat front yards;
Yet all his books insisted that this was a horrible mistake:
What was he doing aging in a suburb?
Can the genius of the hero fall
To the middling stature of the merely talented?
And nightly Icarus probes his wound
And daily in his workshop, curtains carefully drawn,
Constructs small wings and tries to fly
To the lighting fixture on the ceiling:
Fails every time and hates himself for trying.
He had thought himself a hero, had acted heroically,
And dreamt of his fall, the tragic fall of the hero;
But now rides commuter trains,
Serves on various committees,
And wishes he had drowned.