Shadowing Day

Today was 'Bring Your Child To Work' day across the nation, but it meant that my graduating class got to go into the workplace of a person whose career we were interested in. I had chosen to follow Mr. Bonnet for today, and it was absolutely incredible!

Some of the highlights of the day:

• Watching fetal pig dissections
• Joining discussions in Brain & Senses
• Sitting in on APES (AP Environmental Sciences, I do believe)
• Watching Mr. Bonnet work in the ceramics studio at 1st period

And last but not least...

• Made myself useful by... Cleaning fishtanks!

No, really. I cleaned fishtanks for another teacher during the double period of pig dissections.

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No new stuffs to show you all for tonight.

The Stars Are Almost Right...

Alright, how many of you were expecting a Cthulhu-related post? Be honest.... Much better.

In reality, the topic on my mind at the moment has been splitting away from my mother. This theme has been running through my mind for a while, but it has been reaching a new intensity over the past few days. I can see it, clearer than day, and it seems like an eventuality to me instead of just a dream like it had been before.

In months and years past, I was too terrified to even think about this as a close possibility. Now, I am alive with the excitement of what could happen if I get the courage to open my mouth at the right time..... It could be beautiful, like fireworks or a volcanic eruption, or it could be easier, like water breaching a weak wall.

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On another note (literally), NYSSMA is coming up fast. In two and a half weeks, I will be preforming in front of a judge in three different disciplines. I will again be playing a French Horn solo, and it will be joined by a woodwind quintet piece and a vocal solo! I feel prepared for all of these things, and for the first time, I am not nervous entering crunch time for NYSSMA. It's a nice feeling, to be sure.

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"Somewhere"

Out there, deep within the ominous

Purple of the gathering storm, a

Child cries for help, grasping with both hands at

Something that has abandoned them

Forever.

Past the windswept slopes of snowcapped

Mountains, a white rabbit lies torn, red

Lifeblood dripping on the thick

Snow.

Under the waves of a stormy

Sea, a creature is torn, body

Drifting in currents it no longer

Commands.

Somewhere, life is changed irreparably.

Somewhere, a life such as mine is considered

Calm.

World View, As Seen By A Pessimist

"Waking Nightmares"

I feel a strange pall overtake the scene, a mist flowing freely across the land. I am walking through a veil, unable to see the ground, and I can barely breathe.

The world is dying in slow motion. I can feel it in my bones. I think I have bones, anyway. I'm not quite sure.

I am adrift now, floating through a sea of mindless faces who gibber and scream twisted words into a hazy sky clouded with fear. The noise is growing in intensity, reaching a fever pitch that hurts the mind. We are a thousand, nay, a million lemmings rushing to oblivion, and we are welcoming it into our souls.

Today I learned I was born too late. The world's minds are closing fast, clams at the low tide. The activist's preaching to the choir now, they know the truth. We are a million-billion tight-minded lemmings, and we are welcoming the death and decay.

I see this around me, through displays of idiocy that rival those of the Demon Sultan Azathoth. The mad drums and wailing pipes it writhes to in the darkness, we have our own, taking form as Justin Bieber, Fox News and their ilk. 'Tis no wonder the luck has left the world.

Again and again I try to wake from this horrid dream to no avail. There is no one there to shake me from slumber, to wake me. I am alone, horribly and terribly alone in this waking nightmare.

Not Quite Sure What This Is

"Rain"

Pitter-pat. Pitter-pat. Rain is beating on the windows, liquid fingers tapping on my mind. Outside the streaked glass, a world is waking up, not really paying attention to the rain coming down.

Slowly, the crowd leaving for their jobs vacate the houses, and I leave my lonely post, creeping down the stairs of the silent house.

The door is ajar, never closed in the bustle of waking. I slip out into the rain, reeling the water wash cares from my mind.

The mud is cool and soft under my bare feet, and I lie in its wet embrace. I know the police will be here soon, with their dogs. They will find the bodies inside, and they will take me away. Maybe it's for the best.

Already I hear the sirens in the distance, and I am smiling. I am not worried anymore. The rain has washed me clean, and against the wails of the sirens, I cry the hot tears of joy.

Pitter-pat. Pitter-pat.

New Poetry

"You"

You are on all fours.

You are crawling along the desert pavement, clawing at rocks and stones.

You don't even notice the water beneath your hands.

You are only human.

You ignore salvation, and grasp destruction to your breast.

You push away the new, clinging to the teat of the known.

You don't care about the poison lying there.

You admit to insanity, and call yourself crazy.

You say you need to change.

You have no idea how right you are.

You are tearing at your skin.

You have demons chewing in your mind, and you want them gone.

You, like the rest of your kind, are self-destructing.

Hello world, is anyone out there?

Welcome, internet wanderers, to a tiny island in a vast sea of spam and 'exclusive offers'. Sometimes this islet will be filled with the ramblings of a poet with issues, on other days, there may be a rare political commentary-beast floating around, or there might be a portal into the world-view as seen by yours truly. Ah, for that is life! Random, fluid, and you're almost always unprepared, no matter how hard you try.