After locking myself in yesterday, and getting over the Muse's obligatory "But I don't wanna!" protests, I got a real chuckle out of the high school era poetry slush pile.
It was that, or cry in embarrassment.
Apparently, I was REAL angsty my senior year- I must have written 30+ poems about how school sucked. No joke. I remember many days in the back of physics class writing poem after poem about how I couldn't understand. Somehow, the idea of actually paying attention in class must have escaped me...
Anyways, there was a lot of cringing going on. A lot. And a lot of crumpling and ripping up of pages. I know, I know- "they" say never to throw away your slush pile, to keep it for eternity in case, that ONE time you decide to go back to the professional Dark Ages to pull out that ONE sentence or that ONE idea, but honestly? Honestly? What on earth am I gonna do with this one:
I hate physics, yes I do!
I hate physics, how 'bout you?
Really? Unless I'm doing some YA with some really frustrated cheerleaders, this will never apply. (Hmmph. The autobiographical parallels in that statement are horrifying) Yeah, this jingle will never see the light of day again (and believe me when I say this was one of the more successful ones).
Oh, trite high school days. How incredibly GLAD I am that you are over.
What I'm listening to: "Reflections" by Mae
What I want most: more time. always more time.