This Time Imperfect
I'm listening to AFI, a band I supposedly hate. I miss Amy. And the truth of it is, I miss Marc too. I don't have anyone left from that era of my lifetime, and it upsets me. I'm glad Beth or Iris aren't on here anymore, at least not much. I've accepted that Amy will never speak to me again, although I might try calling her again in another six months, then again, I may not. I find it hard to believe that there is any real hope.
I want everything to go back to the way it was. Haha, I'm stupid and doing those personal lj posts no one cares about, or bothers to read, because the emo epidemic is seeping out everywhere and causing people to not care.
I'm going to skip Chem again. I don't have the fucking PRS anyway. I've only been to that class once.
I started dropping shifts at Lakeside, and I may soon quit altogether. Lelande offered me a chance to work on a research project for German, and there's a $200 prize. I'd rather do that then clean dishes, anyway. I plan on dropping Comp and taking the waiver for it. I should have done that earlier anyway.
Soon I will also begin to write a paper for myself on the great machine of human society. I will also try to further the research on the topic more than any other author I have read, by attempting to solve the problem. The fact that human society is a problem is something almost all of you already know. But people don't realize why, and they don't know how to change it. I don't want to waste my awareness regarding the vast sea of bullshit that is our collective lives. I want to change it, at least for me and mine if for no one else. I am tired of being constrained by this and that. Those days should be over relatively soon.
And if the world does collapse, all the better.
My linguistics paper came out nice, or at least I think so. I tried to make the descriptions of Prescriptive and Descriptive thought as clear as possible, and I think I pulled it off. Then again I could be totally wrong. Now that it's put to bed, I must set off on the task of the other essay due tomorrow. The topic: gummy bears.
I don't care what all of you die-hard AFI fans say, I love Sing the Sorrow. It was one of those albums that came out at just the right point in my life (similar to the Wallflower's "Bringing Down the Horse"). It speaks of my love for Marcus and the pain adhering thereto. I need to put these lyrics here, but I'll cut them for your convienence.
This Time Imperfect
A Fire Inside
We held hands on the last night on earth. Our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves. It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river. So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease. In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."
The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide. We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress. The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop. The few insects skittered away in hopes of a better pastime. I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked if you would accompany me in a quick fall, but you made me realize that my ticket wasn't good for two. I rode alone.
You said, "The cinders are falling like snow." There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty, bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence. Of blue and grey. Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city. The sun has stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines. Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward, and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message.
<
I cannot leave here, I cannot stay
Forever haunted, more than afraid
Asphyxiate on words I would say
I'm drawn to a blackened sky as I turn blue
There are no flowers, no, not this time
There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find
I'd show a smile but I'm too weak
I'd share with you, could I only speak, just how much this hurts me
I cannot stay here, I cannot leave
Just like all I loved, I'm make believe
Imagined heart, I disappear
Seems... no one will appear here and make me real
There are no flowers, no, not this time
There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find
I'd show a smile but I'm too weak
I'd share with you, could I only speak, just how much this hurts me
I'd tell you how it haunts me
I'd tell you how it haunts me
Cuts through my day and sinks into my dreams
I'd tell you how it haunts me
Cuts through my day and sinks into my dreams
You don't care that it haunts me
There are no flowers, no, not this time
There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find
I'd show a smile but I'm too weak
I'd share with you, could I only speak, just how much this hurts me
Just how much this hurts me
Just how much you...
I want everything to go back to the way it was. Haha, I'm stupid and doing those personal lj posts no one cares about, or bothers to read, because the emo epidemic is seeping out everywhere and causing people to not care.
I'm going to skip Chem again. I don't have the fucking PRS anyway. I've only been to that class once.
I started dropping shifts at Lakeside, and I may soon quit altogether. Lelande offered me a chance to work on a research project for German, and there's a $200 prize. I'd rather do that then clean dishes, anyway. I plan on dropping Comp and taking the waiver for it. I should have done that earlier anyway.
Soon I will also begin to write a paper for myself on the great machine of human society. I will also try to further the research on the topic more than any other author I have read, by attempting to solve the problem. The fact that human society is a problem is something almost all of you already know. But people don't realize why, and they don't know how to change it. I don't want to waste my awareness regarding the vast sea of bullshit that is our collective lives. I want to change it, at least for me and mine if for no one else. I am tired of being constrained by this and that. Those days should be over relatively soon.
And if the world does collapse, all the better.
My linguistics paper came out nice, or at least I think so. I tried to make the descriptions of Prescriptive and Descriptive thought as clear as possible, and I think I pulled it off. Then again I could be totally wrong. Now that it's put to bed, I must set off on the task of the other essay due tomorrow. The topic: gummy bears.
I don't care what all of you die-hard AFI fans say, I love Sing the Sorrow. It was one of those albums that came out at just the right point in my life (similar to the Wallflower's "Bringing Down the Horse"). It speaks of my love for Marcus and the pain adhering thereto. I need to put these lyrics here, but I'll cut them for your convienence.
This Time Imperfect
A Fire Inside
We held hands on the last night on earth. Our mouths filled with dust, we kissed in the fields and under trees, screaming like dogs, bleeding dark into the leaves. It was empty on the edge of town but we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river. So we walked through the waste where the road curved into the sea and the shattered seasons lay, and the bitter smell of burning was on you like a disease. In our cancer of passion you said, "Death is a midnight runner."
The sky had come crashing down like the news of an intimate suicide. We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars that wore like an antique wedding dress. The echoes of the past broke the hearts of the unborn as the ferris wheel silently slowed to a stop. The few insects skittered away in hopes of a better pastime. I kissed you at the apex of the maelstrom and asked if you would accompany me in a quick fall, but you made me realize that my ticket wasn't good for two. I rode alone.
You said, "The cinders are falling like snow." There is poetry in despair, and we sang with unrivaled beauty, bitter elegies of savagery and eloquence. Of blue and grey. Strange, we ran down desperate streets and carved our names in the flesh of the city. The sun has stagnated somewhere beyond the rim of the horizon and the darkness is a mystery of curves and lines. Still, we lay under the emptiness and drifted slowly outward, and somewhere in the wilderness we found salvation scratched into the earth like a message.
<
I cannot leave here, I cannot stay
Forever haunted, more than afraid
Asphyxiate on words I would say
I'm drawn to a blackened sky as I turn blue
There are no flowers, no, not this time
There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find
I'd show a smile but I'm too weak
I'd share with you, could I only speak, just how much this hurts me
I cannot stay here, I cannot leave
Just like all I loved, I'm make believe
Imagined heart, I disappear
Seems... no one will appear here and make me real
There are no flowers, no, not this time
There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find
I'd show a smile but I'm too weak
I'd share with you, could I only speak, just how much this hurts me
I'd tell you how it haunts me
I'd tell you how it haunts me
Cuts through my day and sinks into my dreams
I'd tell you how it haunts me
Cuts through my day and sinks into my dreams
You don't care that it haunts me
There are no flowers, no, not this time
There will be no angels gracing the lines, just these stark words I find
I'd show a smile but I'm too weak
I'd share with you, could I only speak, just how much this hurts me
Just how much this hurts me
Just how much you...