anotherlongshot (anotherlongshot) wrote,
anotherlongshot
anotherlongshot

Light

It's now dark in my brother's room, except the light coming from the table lamp and the computer screen. I like it this way.

A few hours ago I was at the living room, sticking my head out of the window, and looking for stars. From where I was, I saw two (an accomplishment). It certainly was a rare and beautiful sight. I looked to my left towards the slight canopy of trees, and saw this brief hint of light brimming at the top of the trees. It's almost as if the sun is hiding behind the trees and is waiting to show its face again in the morning. It's such a breath-taking view that I tried drawing it out in my offline diary, but needless to say, my "drawing" was childish and sloppy, something a 5-year-old would produce. Heh.

I wrote a rather twisted poem today. I called it "Am I Not Merciful?" (after Joaquin's second most famous line in "Gladiator", yes). God, I never knew I was capable of such depravity and, I don't know, it's not even morbidity because...Christ. It's like something out of a sick slasher film, or, dare I say, something out of a movie about the Marquis de Sade, only my poem does not contain any sexual under/overtone (if there's such a word). I don't even know what it means. I was just lying on my bed, thinking about stuff, when all of a sudden a sentence popped into my head: "I want to crack open your skull and extract those wicked thoughts about me and my way of life." The original contained something about picking at brains but I decided to leave that bit out.

I do find that some of my poems start this way...like, a random sentence would pop into my head, and if possible, I'd develop on it. Like I wrote this short verse that was triggered by a thought I had while dining in a Chinese restaurant. I was supposed to have dessert, on a plate stained with soy sauce, so I thought, "Who the fuck eats dessert on a salted plate?" And so the first line of "Dessert" was born: "How do you eat dessert on a salted plate?" Something like that.

Anyhow. I told my parents about the possibility of me e-mailing my principal about her weekly preachings. Both parents feel that I shouldn't do it, that it would cause only trouble. Both think I should keep my mouth shut and just tolerate it for a year, 'cause after all, I'm graduating at the end of next year (a thought nothing short of splendid). I find it really sad how they're willing me to put my beliefs and rights aside just to avoid trouble. I mentioned it in hopes of scoring some words of encouragement, but I get that bullshit instead. Well, I'm sorry, but unlike a lot of people, I have an opinion, and I have a voice. And certainly unlike most people, I have the tools to properly execute that opinion. I wasn't even asking for their permission, because I've already decided to do it. I mean, I wrote a goddamned letter to the fucking President of the United States about the Afghanistan issue, and really, I have tolerated her preachings for a year already. I think that's enough.

As for the consequences, I'm prepared to face them. I'm not going to sit by and not let my opinion be heard! For fuck's sake, I'm living in the 21st century! It's not the middle ages or whatever, it's 2001, 4 more days to 2002! And besides, what's the worst that could happen? They can't expel me for voicing an opinion! (And if they do, I'll be thanking James Dean.)

My dad just opened the door, checking up on me. I switched off the monitor, and pretended I was writing in my diary. Ha. Anyway, I'm reading Jim Carroll's "Forced Entries" right now. I love his writing, be it poetry or diary. "The Basketball Diaries" had me in fits, and so far, "Forced Entries" have captivated my attention enough. I strongly recommend Mr. Carroll to anyone who likes freeverse poetry, or simply likes poetry. He is a genius.

I reckon I should go to bed.

Tags: jim carroll, personal, school, writing
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