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I could never be nocturnal - I am way too much of a morning person to even think about staying up all night and wasting beautiful days asleep. The only way I'd be nocturnal is if I died and came back in another life as an owl - and I don't see that happening. In other news, either my sinuses are acting up, I'm getting a cold, or I'm getting the swine flu. Maybe I'm reacting to all the dust getting kicked up from the construction where I live. I don't need to be sick - it's midterm time.
Non-Stop Fighting! (Restless)
I've seen enough of fighting in my seventeen years. Even after I died, there are still people who fight - there is never any peace. It's frustrating because I know that I will remain in this limbo, here in the school where I died, until the fighting stops. It will never stop; it's the way the human race is designed. I wish Rocky would come back from college and do something about this - she has a peaceful nature. There has to be something she can do, since I've been rendered so powerless.
I miss my old school. I have a bad case of nostalgia for it. Here is so different - here is so full of torment and anger. It's a visible weight on you after all these weeks of witnessing fights and stupid brawls that mean nothing. These kids just fight for fun; it's like they're bored and have nothing better to do than to beat each other senseless. I could devise a remedy: we need after school programs over here at Polk. That might keep some of these guys out of trouble... others... I'm not quite sure about them...
Not As Think As You Drunk I Am (Paul)
Totally. When Ricardo and I get drunk, it's like "watch the fuck out, dude" because we're crazy. We fall hard, though. And Pico when she's drunk... oh hell. Funnier things were never seen. She's a trip when she's sober, but when she's drunk, Pico is an entirely different person. She could give those chicks in prison a run for their money - she gets fucking crazy. You'd have to see it to believe it. I woke up one day and found she had scribbled all over every inch of me.
Not That Funny
It's not that funny when we talk about the same things over and over - things that we have discussed before that used to be funny. People embarrassing themselves is not funny; it's terrible. People getting laughed at is not a cause for laughter. We used to laugh at people a lot; we used to think people getting laughed at was hilarious and then we wore out the joke. He still thinks it's funny and I think it's fucking lame. Let's find some new jokes, babe. Then maybe we can laugh like we used to - genuine laughter, not fake.
I take notes in class all the time; I write down what the teacher says almost word for word, but I never speak in class. I think of everything perfect to say right after class ends. That's why I'm thinking of giving up the idea of going to grad school; I think I want to just go to work and make some money. I'm tired of being broke my entire life, and I want to get some experience. Maybe, after a few years of work, I can go back and get my Masters. Oh, the possibilities...
We learned about nihilism today. I refuse to see how someone can have that attitude. Just look around you - look at nature. Look at your best friends and your family - the things you love and appreciate. That can't all amount to nothing. There is a God. I know he exists. I know he's there for me and he'd be there for the nihilists if only they believed - if only they cared. If only they looked and saw all the beauty and wonder in this world. There's a whole lot more than nothing out there!
Nothing Wrong With Me (Maxine)
My mom and stepdad think there's got to be something wrong with me. They're comparing me and my sister Carmen. We're two different people, obviously, but my mom and dad are relieved that Carmen's not like I was when I was nine. When I was nine, I saw a terrible thing - something that made me who I am today. Now that Carmen's nine, nothing's changed. She still believes in magic flying ponies and all that fantasy crap. We're both distanced from reality, but she's the one who's got problems - at least I know the difference.
When I was a novice at the Chipper Chicken, we used to do all kinds of crazy things just to piss off the manager, who was a self-absorbed prick. We'd have water fights when we were supposed to be washing dishes, we'd throw frozen vegetables at each other, we'd sing to the radio and dance all over the restaurant when we closed... those were good times. Now that I'm the manager, I'm being a hypocrite in telling my younger employees not to do all that. Deep down, I want to let them know they can try it.
I consider myself a fairly impatient person. There are things I want, and I want them now! I know that I'll have to wait for the best things, but sometimes, I get so tired of waiting. I wish for instant gratification, but I've learned that what is waited for the longest is often what is appreciated most. Christmas gifts are one such thing. I can never wait until Christmas, but when I do wait - it feels like the joy is greater than if I had just opened all my presents on Christmas Eve. Patience is not my virtue.
Numb (Mrs. Duchamp)
I am numb to the prospect of losing my job. I feel nothing positive, nothing negative, just a void where the feelings should be. In a way, I should be relieved. In five years, I'll be retiring anyway. What's the big deal? Five years... I can pick up a mediocre job somewhere, that's for sure. I don't know about that, especially in this economy. It will probably take me a good five years to find a job, and by then I'll have wasted my time. Time to retire, time to put my wrinkled self on the shelf.
In my medieval women writers class, we were talking about nature and nurture in the long romance
. I think that nature is the more overpowering of the two; it almost always wins in the end. I personally believe that God wants you to go about things because of your true nature and not because of what society or anything else has conditioned you to do. God will always prevail and nurture will be left in the dust. That's a good reason for why men should not play God; they don't know nature well.
There are a lot of clumsy people I know and I am one of them. I'm not a clumsy oaf by any means, but I sometimes trip up stairs and down stairs and even across the stairs. It doesn't help that I have a weak ankle and am extremely self conscious. Whenever I think of an oaf, I think of a big fat clumsy person who can't coordinate to save their life. Most of the football players I've known are like that; on the field they're coordinated, but in real life, they walk funny. Nothing against football players, though. ^_^
I have taken a solemn oath to do my best in school. Just like the Pokemon theme song, I "want to be the very best, like no one ever was." I want to do the best that I can do, but sometimes that vow isn't enough. I do fail, just like everyone, but it frustrates me to no end. I never want to break my oath of success and I am confident that I will succeed. With God's help, I will do my best in school, so I can get the job I want and maybe go to grad school.
Obedient (Mr. Johansen)
It would be nice to finally have a school of obedient kids instead of a school full of hoodlums. I'm tired of dealing with these constant discipline problems. I wish corporal punishment wasn't illegal, so I could literally smack some sense into them. Experts say that all teenagers need is someone to talk to; someone they respect who isn't a parent. I don't subscribe to all that bullshit. The problem lies in the home. They weren't beaten enough as children. They weren't punished at all because their parents were divorced and wanted to appease rather than punish.
I had a crush on this guy once. His name was Robey, rhymes with Toby. When I told Jeannie about him, she took off the R in his name and got "obey." I thought that was interesting because Robey was a control freak to his girlfriends. I don't know why I wanted him even after I knew that; I guess it was the "good girls love bad boys" thing. But I heard rumors that if his girlfriends didn't obey him, he'd shove them around. Luckily, Jeannie convinced me not to go after him. She's a real goody-goody.
Orrin says I'm oblivious to everything. Not everything. I filter out excess trivia, and to me, everything in high school is trivia. The work, the drama, the gossip, everything my parents say... this phase of my life is pure trivia, and there's nothing to make it mean anything to me. I get As and barely do the work. I don't remember it at all after I pass the class. I'm waiting for college. Maybe school will mean something then, and I won't be so "oblivious". I just hope Orrin and I don't end up at the same school.
As a physicist (or wannabe physicist, at any rate), I have to observe the world; try to figure out what's never been figured out before, or at least figure out a way nobody's tried before. It's hard. When I get into graduate work, it's going to take up most of my time; I hate how I won't have time for anything else. Rachel will be fine with that at least; it's good having a low-maintenance girlfriend. Don't tell her, but physics is my real pride and joy in life. Something makes me think she already knows that.
I have an obsession with grammar. It drives me crazy when someone misspells a simple word. On the wall near the elevator, someone stuck a poster that said "University Dinning: Help Wanted" and I was about to cry. It's supposed to be "dining". That reminds me of the time at community college when I saw a poster that said "Thank you for your corporation in this matter." I just about died when I saw that. I really wanted to just rip that poster down or get a fat black smelly permanent marker and cross through the offending word. Seriously, people.
In a strange way, William Faulkner was obsessed with the Oedipus complex. Indirectly, all of the male characters in The Sound and the Fury were obsessed with their mother. Caddy was the mother figure because Caroline was too depressed and psychosomatic and too much of a hypochondriac to even care. Caddy was the mother, and when her purity was defiled and all three brothers were powerless to stop it, they became obsessed with the loss of her and her purity. Wow, that's kind of odd. It's like I don't know enough about Faulkner from class. I'm such a nerd.
On My Own
I wonder what it'll be like out in the world, completely on my own. I don't think I want to be, but I only want to be dependent on others for companionship and conversation, not for money or housing or anything like that. I think being on my own would be very liberating, unless I suddenly get into some kind of a relationship which would make it not-so-liberating. I've come to the conclusion that I like things better when I do them on my own, without any outside help. I'm still exhausted from my last relationship.
On Your Feet
I like to stand on my own two feet. I don't like to be held back by anyone. That's why I broke up with my boyfriend; it felt like he would hold me back. I was afraid to do anything, for fear he'd start bitching and moaning about my decision, and try to talk me out of it, so in the end I realized I was better off without him. I am far better off standing on my own two feet and not on anyone's shoulders. I can do better solo than I ever could in a relationship.
Once Upon A Time (Sarah)
I used to believe in all that once-upon-a-time crap. I believed in fairy tales. I spent high school trying to find that prince and I only found a hideous toad who would never change, no matter how many times I kissed him. Peter. He'll always be a toad; he'll always look like a clown. I can't believe he's still leeching off his parents at 21 years old. I thought I was bad, but Peter's something else. His parents pay his child support payments. Not Peter. His fucking parents. I can't believe it.
Once We Were Friends (Mrs. Duchamp)
Before I married Mr. Duchamp, we were good friends. It was the four of us: me, him, and two of his male friends. You wouldn't believe how many rumors flew around about me being a whore, about me banging all of them. No - we were good friends because we had all grown up in the same area. We spent elementary school together, then middle school, but by high school, it was just me and Mr. Duchamp - we married after college, and now that he's gone, I still think about how beautiful the friendship was.
One Last Chance (Paul)
I was nearly held back in the fifth grade, but my teacher decided to give me one last chance. I was a smart kid. The only problem with my life was my father; he made me sick. He made me unable and unwilling to go to school. He'd talk me down. He'd hurt me. But the teacher saw through it and with her help, I went to summer school and passed the fifth grade, so I could be with my friends; they were just about all I had at that elementary school. Deirdre was no help.
One Night Stand
Yesterday, my friend and I had a long chat via MySpace comments about how some girls will drop their pants for any guy who calls them beautiful or even looks their way. I don't understand how someone can be so promiscuous, even with the threat of STDs everywhere, and the fact that every birth control method has some chance of failure. KNOW the person before you have sex. Preferably, be MARRIED to that person. Don't just jump into bed with people you barely know; this is not a soap opera. This is your life. Don't fuck it up.
One Phone Call
I don't like talking on the phone unless it's super important. I can't do other things while talking on the phone like others can. I don't like those awkward silences that happen on the phone and are more awkward than normal silences. I don't like how when people call you on cell phones, the phone always dies in the middle of the conversation. I don't like how people sometimes get another call and put you on hold. I hated how my exboyfriend would always fall asleep on the phone. If I hung up on him, he'd get mad.
It's a Japanese rice ball. I'd really like one right now. I haven't had sushi in a long time and my mom and I might have it on Friday, so I hope so. I love rice. I can basically have it cooked any way; I like Mexican rice and fried rice and steamed rice and wild rice... I'm such a nerd, going on and on about rice. I had some rice in the dining hall the other day, and I'm pretty sure it was flavored with bouillon cubes; it tasted so good. I could have eaten a ton of it.
Before he became emotionally abusive, I wrote him a poem with the title "Only You". I don't think I'll ever be able to write a poem with that much love in it ever again. I think I brought on the emotional abuse by being weak, by nonverbally telling him he could walk on me. I would listen to him screaming and yelling and think that I should be doing something; he told me I could cure his problems and I was stupid enough to believe I could - so I absorbed the force of his yells. I hate him now.
I never want to see her go through what I went through with that stupid boy. It seems like she's already going through it. I wish I could warn her, but some things need to be seen firsthand. Besides, I have no idea what bad shit he probably said about me. She won't believe me, and I'd tell her God's honest truth about that boy. Every time he says "I love you" it's a lie. Every time he says he wants to marry you, it's a lie. He doesn't know what he wants. He can't be single for a month.
Only You Can See Me (Sarah)
I used to love once. I used to trust men. I used to be capable of love for boys other than my son. But now, nobody can see me. I know it was because of my sins and my problems that I made myself invisible. Everyone who was my friend only pretends to care about me, but it's the drama they're interested in. It's the gossip they want to hear. They want to hear me rant about Peter until my lungs give out. They want me to openly regret what I've done. They want...
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