"Memento Mori" Remember you must die
Ten days. A number you can hold on two hands. The clock is ticking. And I wonder, Where the hell did May go? And April, and March, all of them. April had an excuse, I was busy that month. The time flew by too fast with song and dance clouding my head. December and January had an excuse too, I was mostly crying over my lost white world. But it's like you snap your fingers. Poof, it's gone. You forgot to appreciate Freshman year, love. I know. I know, I'm sorry.
I try to write something meaningful in class. Just about everyone's handwriting had evolved into beautiful perfect letters, but my scribbles fill the page. Or rather, don't, in this case. I know I'm trying too hard these days to be creative. And for all that I strain my mind, it's not working.
It still seems to work when I BS my classes, however. I managed high A's on both Algebra II and French tests, neither of which I studied for. I love that.
I can feel Rich's glare as I sit down for lunch. Why can't he be mature and just stop? Or is that too much to expect. Marzipan calls Dominic a butthead, and I laugh, not only because "butthead" is a word I haven't heard since middle school, but because I still hold a grudge against him. Because he led me on, and I am easily swayed. And gullible, I guess. Like it was all a big joke on me.
I don't take jokes well.
I'll not burden you with my severely petty troubles any longer.
I try to write something meaningful in class. Just about everyone's handwriting had evolved into beautiful perfect letters, but my scribbles fill the page. Or rather, don't, in this case. I know I'm trying too hard these days to be creative. And for all that I strain my mind, it's not working.
It still seems to work when I BS my classes, however. I managed high A's on both Algebra II and French tests, neither of which I studied for. I love that.
I can feel Rich's glare as I sit down for lunch. Why can't he be mature and just stop? Or is that too much to expect. Marzipan calls Dominic a butthead, and I laugh, not only because "butthead" is a word I haven't heard since middle school, but because I still hold a grudge against him. Because he led me on, and I am easily swayed. And gullible, I guess. Like it was all a big joke on me.
I don't take jokes well.
I'll not burden you with my severely petty troubles any longer.