Ah, smell that? The freshness of fall, and a new post! I zipped right over to Best Buy after school today and got Dido's new alblum, then listened to it in my room with the window open slightly so I could breathe the fresh (cold) air and hear the lovely fall rain. C'est Délicieux. Kecky, if you're out there I linked to your diary, and also: I LOVE JANE EYRE!!!!!!! Best book EVER!!! Although, I must say, not everyone thinks so, I'm afraid. People have actually described it as *boring* (I can't imagine why) and seem not to understand the eternal torment and joy of unrequited love by one who knows her own unworthiness. ::sigh:: It really is the most beautifully teen-girl-angst written novel. I also may warn you that love of the book runs in my family. It is my grandmother's *and* aunt's favorite book. Please give it a chance though.

Also, I wrote another poem. Bet you're getting tired of them. Too Bad! Read! Muahahahaha!


Saturday Night

Wind whips the stars around me
as I speed along the boarder
of city and isolation

You are so silent
next to me
that you aren't even there
and once again I rush alone
into uncertainty

When I arrive at the chaos
confusion and madness
are thinly contained
in fragile inhibitions

Eyes dart left and right
unseeing
and unknowingly pass their disease
to me

Matt is out of the ICU. Thanks to everyone who prayed. He is recovering well, though as of yet my friend has not been allowed to see him. His family went completely psycho on her and is trying to keep the two of them apart, though all they want is to see each other again. It's a difficult time.

I would like to ask for prayers for my good friend's boyfriend, Matt. He is in a drug induced coma in the Neuro Trama ICU following a serious car accident early Sunday morning. He's her whole world, and this is everyone's worst nightmare.

It's been my worst nightmare all summer.


And it really does happen.

Once again I'm snagged

on




you.

Okay, so everyone else (Laura, Annie, Hannah) updated their blogs today so that kinda makes me feel like I should, too. I have 44 calculus problems to do, along with a bunch of AP Lit reading and an AP Psych project, so I can't spend much time on this. However, I started to write a poem today in which I am not the speaker (something *very* new for me... perhaps I *am* learning something in AP Lit.....) but it isn't done yet. ::sigh:: Oh, and Laura, don't worry about your Artist's Block. I've had writers block for like..... 4 years. ;)

So here's the finished product.


A Woman?

am I a woman yet?
my mother says I am
my father says I am
but I have no real proof

the other girls say they envy me
my flat stomach
my legs like a deer's
(except for the lack of hair)
my arms like matchsticks

I look like I would break
shatter into a million pieces
like my grandmother's china doll
if someone held me too tightly
or dropped me
but the truth is
I would only break
if someone did both in succession

"The boys like that," they say
"A woman should be fragile," they claim

but I don't feel like a woman
I have no obscene flesh
to arouse dirty thoughts
no wide hips
to bring souls into the world

my ribcage blossoms
beneath the nothingness that is my breasts
and the heart that barely beats beneath
is protected from the horrors of the world
only by paper thin skin
and bird fragile bone

and I can't help thinking
that the blood which sparked this debate
will soon dry up
taking my life
and the lives of others
with it

Oh. My. Sweet. Lord. Calculus. AP Lit. Does it never end? My calculus teacher is deaf. My Lit teacher is seven feet tall and doesn't understand what she teaches us. It's like the Dead Poet's Society's worst nightmare. She tries to act like Robin Williams, but then gives assignments that he would spit on. Anyway. I wrote a *real* poem. Not that Poetry 180 crap she makes us do.


I'm A Girl

I'm a girl
little, weak, lost, afraid
I lie alone
shivering
listening
hoping
but no one comes to my aid

I'm a girl
afraid inside
but I'm not as little
as I used to be

I can drive a car
work a lighter

the important things.

I'm a girl
little inside
but I'm not as weak
as I used to be

I can hold up someone bigger than me
Stand on the edge
without falling off

the impossible things.

I'm a girl
weak inside
but I'm not as lost
as I used to be

I can steer through the night
lead my charge

the imperceptible things

I'm a girl
lost inside
but I'm not as afraid
as I used to be

I can turn my eyes to iron
pick up the pieces
of broken things

beautiful things

So I'm still a girl
little, weak, lost, afraid
I stand alone
tensing
watching
hoping
no one comes to my aid