Old news: The Pacific Northwest had an earthquake today. Me?
I was drying off after a shower in the morning. The first few
tremors had me thinking that my family was running down / up
the stairs..then it just simply didn't seem to stop, ...and
the shaking got bigger...I could just FEEL my bathroom
bending like a wave, and I heard my sliding shower and
washroom doors shaking, and my windows rattling as well.
Ignorance is bliss.
By the time I figured out it was NOT my family on the stairs
nor them shaking my doors and that it WAS an earthquake, the
first thought that came to my mind thereafter was, "man. They
would have found me naked in my washroom."
Anyways.
In bigger striking-er, more original news, Dave sent me a poem.
He said it's to me. ...It has no noticible theme, nor does
it have any detectable feelings. It's one of those "neutral"
rhyming poems. Perhaps I don't feel anything for rhyming poems
simply because I don't feel they do the emotions behind it
justice. But HIS particular one, I truely cannot understand.
Again, like Jack the Pumpkin king in Nightmare before Christmas,
"But what does it MEAN?"
I got an exam back. It was graded on a curve, so luckily I
managed a "B". I don't understand it. I didn't understand
ANYTHING in the course yet I got what I got. I didn't even
understand the explanations. gee. ...I suppose I'll be
getting another one back tomorrow as well..I think I did a
little better on that one, and the one for math I did particularly
well on -- I KNOW that course.
Back to the poet. I don't understand. I ....have never known
anyone like him. Do I like him?? I know I like him. Do I LIKE
him? Do I want to??
Do I want him as a friend?
I don't think I could let go of him as a friend.
I have been deathly sick. I'm feeling better today, but the
symptoms are a consistently plugged throat and nose, slight
fever and headaches, body pains, sneezing. My voice goes in
and out at inopurtune times (like when I'm answering the phone
or asking an important question or when I want to retort
something, anything) and I imagine it must be wonderful to
be hearing my hacking cough in the middle of a sentance.
I wish I could write again. ..yes..I know I'm writing now. But
I wish I could have the skills I had in high school. That night
I was writing about love...about contradiction and fallacies..
That is how I used to wonder...to think....to live.
I remember thinking so much in high school that my friends
would shake their heads and laugh.
I haven't wondered in so long.