2004-08-06
The Week of August 1st
Everyone goes to bed too early. The lone insomniac speaks. Friday night, people. The rain, it came and went, came again, you know the story.
My dad and I watched the Miss Teen USA pageant on TV today. He's really funny in his own spiteful way. "Oh, Alabama won't win. Look at those pointy eyebrows! Your eyebrows are much nicer than that," he says in my general direction. He knew it would come down between Louisana and Hawaii, he called it. When Louisana won, it was because: "Of course she did. She's tall." The pageant sucks, naturally, but Pop was worth the laughs.
Your postcard, I decorated it, since I know you somehow revere my artwork. Lonely day, yep, that was a reoccuring theme, was it not? I hope to send it soon, and I await more of your stuff too.
The applicability of songs can be stretched. This I can willingly accept. Such a song as the one below probably fits the regard. It can be rightfully applied when interpretted in a certain light. This is no doubt what they were going for; it's all in the metaphors. By the way, this was the wakeup song I listened to on my first day of school here (Oct 6, eek), it was intended to be some cause of motivation, or a reminder of my true self that needn't be concealed or disregarded just because i was entering a building filled with a thousand people i didn't know. I wish you could hear it, it's a really good one. The file-sharer in you really should prevail. Oooh yeah, here it is, the aptly titled....
"The Week of August First" by The (greatest band ever known to existence not counting a few others...) Impossibles (!)
so i go down to my deepest depths
and lost the things i'd learned to
accept
like faith in promises
and i think about the truth i hold
compared to the bitter fruits of getting old
just like my father says
this is a test to see if my worst still can beat my best
this is a test, a measurement of my failure at success
it's just my sophomore jinx
it's all come back to me
i built up bad times in the cracks in my securities
but will i steer right?
will my laundry stay white?
whenever i lose sight of my plight?
but i still turn my back look the other way sustain myself, all work no play
it's life but it's far form living
and my views become naturally corrupt
when my friends and enemies get mixed up
my lesson's learned after the fact
and so my palms get sweaty
and i can't read the answers on my hands
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No one truly knows what is going on, except perhaps me. Go ahead and call my bluff if you think such an abominable thing exists within me. But at least know I am content and try to seek contentedness within knowing that. All is well, no one should doubt that. Speaking of no one, I did not get an adequate dosage of anyone tonight, really. hrumphf. another time, certainly.
something calls, i'll go answer it. you, me, going, gone.
leesah-likes at 11:48 p.m.