poetic disaster.
I've found another fault of mine. I'm the exact opposite of good at poetry. We've been assigned poetry for english. Write 5 poems he said. I wrote two, because they are what I feel, yet I read them again and they don't express it good enough. Perhaps I think too much about these things.

I heard that now there is ANOTHER call back audition for concert choir. Let's see if I made that list. Ah. It's just hectic.

I've been perpetually on the verge of either crying or falling asleep all day long. I should be asleep right now, but it just isn't going to happen.

I've been told that I've mastered my glare. Apparently, I have a glare. And everyone notices it. I don't of course, because sometimes when I'm glaring I'm just thinking about certain items that will be a necessity for the back seat of my car. Or the wonders of all natural potato chips, not the Wise brand because that just sucks. When I'm really mad I usually look away from the person or start laughing. Or start yelling. But a simple glare is just a thoughtful look, and I need to sort these facial expressions out so I'm not so misunderstood.

A teacher I've known for a long time said jokingly, "Bonnie will be the Editor for the NY TIMES one day." Oh, how cool that would be.

I was thinking about something. Say you meet someone you love. And you love them and they love you. However it's just not possible to be with them always. Perhaps you're not even dating. Circumstances and everything. Would dying in their arms be enough? To have the person you love be the last person you feel and hear, at that exit point of concsciousness, even if it never worked out before..would it be enough for it to just come together then for that one moment?

I don't know. Obviously I'm never thinking about work when I'm there.

Goodnight.

Posted by Maleta at 10:40 p.m.