Oh, and in case you're wondering: STILL standing by what I said in the last post. Ha ha! You thought I was a weak, brittle teenage girl? Well think again!
I wrote two poems a few days ago and I thought I'd post them on here. One's happy and cheerful and one is sad and awful. The first is about my Algebra 2 classroom (IDK why. Mostly because I am so bored in Algebra 2 I just resort to writing poetry about the squeaky furniture) and the second is about my home life, which is getting shittier by the day. Too bad. My school life is excellent, now that I can go through AP English without worrying about [see last post] and only thinking about how EFFING BRILLIANT I AM. Only, from what I heard this morning from this conversation, it's not so true... (that I'm brilliant)
Annoying Kid Who Sits Behind Me in Study Hall: (transitioning from chat about the new-kid-who-technically-used-to-go-to-our-middle-school-but-just-got-back, who was in a fight with my favorite teacher) So is she a good teacher? I mean, does she like you?
Me: Well, she doesn't like me, but she tolerates me. Yeah. She's a brilliant teacher though.
AKWSBMISH: Really? She likes you? I mean, you're a sophomore...
Me: What does that have to do with it?
AKWSBMISH: Well, I heard from some juniors that she doesn't like the sophomores.
Me: Why?
AKWSBMISH: She thinks that you don't belong in the class. 'Cause it's AP, and it's supposed to be a junior class. The juniors were saying that you guys are just these annoying sophomores who think you're so smart, who act like you're smarter than you are.
Me: Well, I don't know... I mean, ha, I definitely act smarter than I am...
AKWSBMISH and Girl Who Sits Next to Me: Murmurs of annoyed assent
Me: ...but all in all, she seems to tolerate me, like I said... she puts up with me more than the other sophomores, I guess... Oh, attendance is over? Sorry, got to go to Art Club...
So yeahhhh. Now, granted, I'm not going to take it as an insult that *gasp* my brilliant English teacher doesn't like me, but obviously my precious ego has taken a blow. Anyway, you can't trust anything this kid says. There's a reason I started his name with "Annoying Kid".
UPDATE FROM THE FUTURE: oh please, my English teacher thought I was the best one in the class. Not that her judgment... anyway.
ANYYYYWWWWAAAY. So you wanted some poetry, I'll give you some poetry. Here's the happy one:
Snow Light
Those darn chairs
are chirping like birds
But it’s not springtime
It’s rainy, rainy
And sometimes snowy
It’s always gray
And clouds
Bare branches
But the classroom with
the squeaky old desks
Is sunny, sunny
With a bright white light
A dim sun-light
It’s warm in winter.
Nice, eh? I'm into this sort of poem lately... cute and whimsical.
Of course, then you get poems like these...
No Title Yet
If there’s one thing I’ve learned
it’s that the people who you care about the most
will do everything in their power
to hurt you
And I wouldn’t care
But I keep trying to help you up
And you just keep spitting in my face
It hurts you know
To have my caring turned sour
And to see you take my kind face in the mirror
And paint it black
You, you keep cutting into my soul
I get rid of one wound and you give me another
So I’ll never be whole
There’s nowhere here that feels like home
Not when you and you and everyone push me down
If only I was back in Rome
You’d never have to see me frown
I know, the last rhyme is a bit of a push. I tried to come up with something else, but 'you'd never have to see me look like a creepy sad clown' sounds about ten thousand times worse, so...
Anyway... Notice how I haven't been doing the little poetry description things at the bottom? Sorry. Hey, these poems are short as hell, even lazy people can read them.
Yeah. So tomorrow, if I'm not too sick and if it doesn't snow (remember the time I did a lot of mitzvot, God? Brownie points? With snow?) I have to teach this shit called Mini Minyan. Stupid little kids at my temple shrieking and making my life hell. And I have to teach them about the Ten Commandments and blessings and how not to set the place on fire and I am just not up to it. I'm sick.
Then I have to go to some chocolate something. And oh yeah, putting "I have to" next to "chocolate" is rare for me, thank you.
Then on Sunday I have to go to some house to eat pizza. Ditto for the pizza.
Luckily my only homework is an AP English essay. Oh wait- did I say "only"? Did I imply it's an easy task? *heartless laugh* No, my dearies. It is not an easy task. The prompt is about the pursuit of happiness v. the entitlement to happiness (and I live in fear that my teacher will find this blog and murder me for wording the prompt wrong) and unless I write something comparable to a new, messianic, earth-shattering philosophy that challenges all of human history, I have no chance of a decent grade. Did I mention I got an 85 on the midterm? Yes. My worst grade. In my best subject.
So yes, I have a crazy amount of work cut out for me, and I stayed up until midnight surfing Figment.
Speaking of which, I am going to go back on Figment for a bit (it's like a drug) and then sleep.
See you later.
From your awesome yet sleepy poet,
magic*esi
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