(no subject)
I've ignored this for a while, hoping that it would help. All these have been are constant reminders that the world is fucked up, and having events and memories documented in writing has an annoying way of making them seem more real and official. Being at school has this soul-sucking way of draining inspiration. Hogwarts - The Architectural Dementor. I've always felt like it's supposed to work the other way around: It's not really poetry unless it comes from someplace sad, because no one wants to read pages and pages of euphoric fluff.
Break was nice. Much too short. I succeeded in ignoring the world for two weeks. This, the paper, the wireless, the newly empty house next door, Leah and her constant nagging about The State of the Government and The Ways of the World. I think it paid off. It was nice to feel 16 again and to know that my food was going to be cooked all the way through.
But Christmas time doesn't feel like Christmas time without being able to look up the road to see what sort of weird snow-creatures Luna's piled together out of the snow. I'm afraid for Roger and I both do and don't want to know who died. I still don't know where Ben is and I'm scared to death that he's their unnamed statistic.
I don't want to go back. I liked being able to ignore it.
Break was nice. Much too short. I succeeded in ignoring the world for two weeks. This, the paper, the wireless, the newly empty house next door, Leah and her constant nagging about The State of the Government and The Ways of the World. I think it paid off. It was nice to feel 16 again and to know that my food was going to be cooked all the way through.
But Christmas time doesn't feel like Christmas time without being able to look up the road to see what sort of weird snow-creatures Luna's piled together out of the snow. I'm afraid for Roger and I both do and don't want to know who died. I still don't know where Ben is and I'm scared to death that he's their unnamed statistic.
I don't want to go back. I liked being able to ignore it.