"when i'm famous, i will be called the Master Ki"
so about the comp sci acsl competition saturday... do i constantly need to be reminded of how incompetent a programmer i am? damn i really suck at programming, especially under pressure and unreasonable time limits. gah. but we did well as a team. 5th out of the 16 teams in the intermediate 3 division... pretty good for our first year. so it was me, charlotte, and andrew o'shea. they got us 9 points for programming. no help from me. then we all did well in the short rounds. me and char got 12/12 and andrew got 11/12. yah girls can do math and computer science too. =D i got two books that i probably will never use, even though i might flip through a few pages like once. and i got visual studio and the computer game halo (1). it was nice. amusing how the girls get halo. but charlotte gave hers to andrew. the car rides friday morning and saturday nights actually weren't too bad. we listened to good (in my opinion) music, which andrew complained was emo, though really not all of it was. i was surprised that karewa tolerated it. he is a weird guy. too hyper. but it was alright. we met with the barrington senior 3 team. talked for a while. played frisbee in the hallways of the uber rich emmaus high school at which the competition was held before some woman yelled at us. and the she yelled at us for keeping the doors of the school open, which we only did to let in some light through the privacy glass windows that make the interior of the building darker. barrington got 3rd and got handheld pcs. got back to la salle around 10:30 and char gave me a ride home.
so sunday, had practice at church at 8:30 (didn't get there til 8:45 though). played the piano. i hate playing when we only have 45 minutes to practice. it isn't really sufficient. anyway, we never got to the knew song, but it was alright. after church, i went home. then drove to thayer street to go see the poetry slam. there was a brown graduation, which i should have gone to today, cause i know someone who graduated. but anyway, because of that, and since thayer st is thayer st, it took me at least 10 minutes to find a parking spot near the avon, and another 2 minutes to maneuver my dad's minivan into the space. the slam was awesome. jared paul was awesome, as i expected. some awesome poets there. makes me so envious of their ability to perform poetry like that. and totally inspired me to write and maybe improve on spoken word a bit rather than stuttering like i normally do. :/ saw this trevor kid, who i thought looked extremely familiar, and who turned out to be a la salle alum. i wonder what year. anyway, he was good. sage francis was awesome. there was this other poet who seemed only capable of slamming about girls and sex. i didn't really like that. but anyway, it was nice. got to see a bunch of spüners. :) after the slam, i went to la creperie with kian and got to try a crepe for the first time in my life. i had a josephine crepe. it was good. i had a good time talking with kian. (haha i still don't understand how talking to me is like a bucket of water.) then i gave him a ride home. it was nice. i'm having a good weekend. and it's great knowing that i won't hafta do any summer hw this summer. and that i still have monday off. and tuesday. :) i know this is another long entry, and that i just updated about 3 days ago, but here's a poem i actually wrote for english, the one poem i had to do for mr. white. i also read this at the last spün i went to. i think this is my most incoherent poem. anyway...
"reduction print"
a shot at two a.m. in the dark warped alleyways
80 proof but not bulletproof not fireproof
the flames lick at the rapid streams of my sanity
you turn your burning gaze upon me
and i feel the flutter of butterflies
not in my stomach but in my heart in the crystal jar that you hold
and your sadistic eyes bore into my dull orbs
as you tear off each delicate wing
leaving behind limp bodies and an unnerving calm
found only in the dead of December
you shattered the gingerly beating prism
dispersing shards of frozen mercury that have lost all luster
fragments of an infinite gray (that belongs nowhere
in a world of black and white and the seven
ribbons that streak the sky of my imagination
there were only the extremes and none of the
middle grounds reminiscent of the torrential rains of old)
you made my winter fall to pieces
what little warmth remaining in its ashes
breaking the frosty panes of ice
cracking the blue tinted windows to my being
the crimson spreads and now the glass is truly stained
a vile maroon filtering the rays of a nonexistent sunrise
you marooned my soul on isles of the past
as you sailed me away on the turbulent Styx
headed toward the blazing horizon
i recall thinking that the arsonist should not play with arsenic
but you did exactly that when you
tampered with my weak rhythm section
i wanted nothing beyond the platonic
but you braided my double helix to pattern
the carbon copy of your ideal
you have what you want and i keep the negatives for myself
my tubercular veins throb with the pain of inverted nostalgia
of resurfacing memories that should have long been discarded
but when the ache is no more than a lingering insignificance
and i once again stand in the dark room
in the laboratory soaked in garnet light
defined by the purity of binary metaphysics
i drown your prints and myself in the acids of a bankrupt mind
i'm excited. finally get to sleep in. ^_^ i'm gonna try to write or something. something new. ok. good night.
so sunday, had practice at church at 8:30 (didn't get there til 8:45 though). played the piano. i hate playing when we only have 45 minutes to practice. it isn't really sufficient. anyway, we never got to the knew song, but it was alright. after church, i went home. then drove to thayer street to go see the poetry slam. there was a brown graduation, which i should have gone to today, cause i know someone who graduated. but anyway, because of that, and since thayer st is thayer st, it took me at least 10 minutes to find a parking spot near the avon, and another 2 minutes to maneuver my dad's minivan into the space. the slam was awesome. jared paul was awesome, as i expected. some awesome poets there. makes me so envious of their ability to perform poetry like that. and totally inspired me to write and maybe improve on spoken word a bit rather than stuttering like i normally do. :/ saw this trevor kid, who i thought looked extremely familiar, and who turned out to be a la salle alum. i wonder what year. anyway, he was good. sage francis was awesome. there was this other poet who seemed only capable of slamming about girls and sex. i didn't really like that. but anyway, it was nice. got to see a bunch of spüners. :) after the slam, i went to la creperie with kian and got to try a crepe for the first time in my life. i had a josephine crepe. it was good. i had a good time talking with kian. (haha i still don't understand how talking to me is like a bucket of water.) then i gave him a ride home. it was nice. i'm having a good weekend. and it's great knowing that i won't hafta do any summer hw this summer. and that i still have monday off. and tuesday. :) i know this is another long entry, and that i just updated about 3 days ago, but here's a poem i actually wrote for english, the one poem i had to do for mr. white. i also read this at the last spün i went to. i think this is my most incoherent poem. anyway...
"reduction print"
a shot at two a.m. in the dark warped alleyways
80 proof but not bulletproof not fireproof
the flames lick at the rapid streams of my sanity
you turn your burning gaze upon me
and i feel the flutter of butterflies
not in my stomach but in my heart in the crystal jar that you hold
and your sadistic eyes bore into my dull orbs
as you tear off each delicate wing
leaving behind limp bodies and an unnerving calm
found only in the dead of December
you shattered the gingerly beating prism
dispersing shards of frozen mercury that have lost all luster
fragments of an infinite gray (that belongs nowhere
in a world of black and white and the seven
ribbons that streak the sky of my imagination
there were only the extremes and none of the
middle grounds reminiscent of the torrential rains of old)
you made my winter fall to pieces
what little warmth remaining in its ashes
breaking the frosty panes of ice
cracking the blue tinted windows to my being
the crimson spreads and now the glass is truly stained
a vile maroon filtering the rays of a nonexistent sunrise
you marooned my soul on isles of the past
as you sailed me away on the turbulent Styx
headed toward the blazing horizon
i recall thinking that the arsonist should not play with arsenic
but you did exactly that when you
tampered with my weak rhythm section
i wanted nothing beyond the platonic
but you braided my double helix to pattern
the carbon copy of your ideal
you have what you want and i keep the negatives for myself
my tubercular veins throb with the pain of inverted nostalgia
of resurfacing memories that should have long been discarded
but when the ache is no more than a lingering insignificance
and i once again stand in the dark room
in the laboratory soaked in garnet light
defined by the purity of binary metaphysics
i drown your prints and myself in the acids of a bankrupt mind
i'm excited. finally get to sleep in. ^_^ i'm gonna try to write or something. something new. ok. good night.