Capturing beauty in a messenger bottle
I love writing entries at school. I feel sooo rebellious.
I'm supposed to be working on my revolution paper, but I don't really know the first thing about my revolution to tell the truth. I'm so sick of school. And work. I want to be like the man in Rip Van Winkle who went to sleep for twenty years. Maybe then, I'd wake up felling refreshed. Morning is like a cold slap in the face. I wish I could care. Like at the beginning of school where you tell yourself this year will be different, this year I will be who I want to be. You load yourself up with new things, and once school starts, for maybe two weeks you have no problem getting things done.
Or maybe it's just me.
I'm supposed to be working on my revolution paper, but I don't really know the first thing about my revolution to tell the truth. I'm so sick of school. And work. I want to be like the man in Rip Van Winkle who went to sleep for twenty years. Maybe then, I'd wake up felling refreshed. Morning is like a cold slap in the face. I wish I could care. Like at the beginning of school where you tell yourself this year will be different, this year I will be who I want to be. You load yourself up with new things, and once school starts, for maybe two weeks you have no problem getting things done.
Or maybe it's just me.