Thursday, September 7, 2006

And in the mirror, all midnight eyes.
I got 8 comments on my last post. I believe that's more than I've had in a long while.

Yesterday after school the German club got together for Spagettieis. It's ice cream (eis) that's molded to look like spagetti. Toppings included strawberry syrup, which was made to look like spagetti sauce, and white chocolate grated to look like parmesan cheese. It was positively divine.

I got my friend to watch Project Runway. I've been watching it since season two, and I love it. It's by far my favorite show. My friend Jen started watching it, and she really likes it now. Am I good or what?

Since I asked about fears on my last post, I'll ask what you love doing most. I love to write fiction. My favorite genres are angst, tragedy, and romance. I like to think that I have a flair for words, but I doubt it. I haven't been able to write any true stories for a very long time. It's sort of sad. I also love reading. I could read all day long and never get tired of it.

It's strange. I've been feeling different lately. You might have noticed that my writing styles on my posts have changed a bit. Then again, maybe you haven't. I don't know, maybe it's just me. Is it just me?

I fell asleep in World History yesterday. I was so tired, and my eyes were sliding shut. By the time Thursday comes around, I'm already ready to sleep away the weekend.

Well, I'm going to go. My bed is calling me. Gnit.

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 leaves.

It was empty on the edge of town
But we knew everyone floated along the bottom of the river.
So we walk 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 came 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 was 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.
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