In which Choon decides to step up his mugging, and the school timetable decides to step up 2. And Choon gets served.Thursday, August 14, 2008
at 10:48 PM;
One word.
Phew.
Thank God it's over.
The school timetable system ROCKS. Seriously.
Had 11 hours of stuff in a row today, because my only break was taken up by class photo taking. Come on, half the class wasn't here today, and nobody in the class really cares anyway, so why bother? And apparently the school's policy is to have a break at least once every five hours. Which they've hit for my Tuesdays and Thursdays.
Thursday has 5 lessons in a row, a break, then four or so hours of lessons, then immediately after that is math remedial for 1 or 2 hours (it was 2 today). Break was stolen by the evil photographers, and I had a (horror of horrors!) Math test right before a Lit poetry comparision test. I almost died during the Lit test, I was so tired, the words were literally blurring in front of my eyes, but I really thank God that I was able to write out a sad excuse (hey, at least I tried) of an essay, which was waaaaaaaay too short.
Oh. That, and I wrote "and peace by Leo Tolstoy" after every incidence of the word 'war' in the poem.
Yes, yes, I am too bored.
Way too bored.
Choon's brain has le melted, so he shall go off to shower and hit the sack.
Poem. Not as straightforward as my others, but I kinda like it.
steal this poem
you may steal the water,
but you can't steal the spring-
steal this poem, I challenge you; employ
subterfuge, slip it out as
it rings in the air, or tear
it from my grasp; rip these verses
out of semblance.
steal this poem, I say; borrow form
and movement, copy my speech
but note: once spoken, considered old;
dump them, after, on the shelf, filed
out of memory.
steal this poem, right now; rob me
of language, hijack the proverbial
locomotive before thought leaves
the imaginary rails, merging
out of control.
steal this poem, if you wish; pick
what you will, because linguistic chaff
is but a discarded sweet wrapper
plucked by the wind, grown
out of a single
unattainable root.
Off to sleep.
the rest is silence;
