Wednesday, June 21, 2006
La did id... um.. yeah.
MOod: Tired .__.
Listening to: Every Time We Touch - Cascada
8D I love This song. Its one of those songs where you either want to break out the DDR pads or just go and dance. So fun. *Dances around to music* Lol.
So, I just got finished sanding some more and doing CULKING!! MY GOSH IT NEEDS TO DIE!!!!!!! I hate it. If ya couldnt tell ._. . Anywho.... I've just learned how to use Winamp Skins for my XMMS (media player on KDE *hearts*), so if you know of any really good places to get skins, please tell me. 's currently Sessy-darling looking sexy like he always does 8D. Right?
So, I went driving again with my instructor and another chick. I drove for one hour, and she did for an hour and a half. We went too far away from the school, then went back a slower way 8D it was creepy. We were in the mountians and the girl got REALLY close to the edge. The teacher had to reach over and move the steering wheel. It was kinda fun. But so, I got an hour and a half of observation time. Great eh? I only need to go out one more time and then... I can get my lisence. That is... if I pass the test. *sheepish grin*. I haven't looked at the driving handbook since second quarter. Oh well.
Well.. thus ends my wonderful stories. ._. summer's so boreing. But fun. Tomorrow I may not post because... I'm going to school and then to a town an hour and a half away to spend time with my sister. AGAIN. I swear, I'm always with Lee. Its insane. But, she wants to go to this poetry reading, so yeah. She's a WONDERFUL writer. Like, seriously. I *HEART* her stories. This is one of her poems. Called Corroded by Lee (aka Tiger--eyes)
My bloody chandelier
falling through the tattered rose.
What is this face if not a pen?
The pain behind my eyes provoked
by, not your blade, but mine.
I feel the sting, then, trickling,
your mouth into my brain.
My identity once leaned on you,
your cinderblock of fame.
That ego you had – still have, in fact –
gave strength unto my name.
And now I carry you.
Oh, slicing shards of glory,
you come to humble fields of wheat!
You promise nectar, sweet with sweat,
a seed I've yet to reap.
This tree of faces you now see
cannot uproot for you.
I stumbled o'er your stony path,
once convinced my eyes were blue.
They're green! Oh, how my eyes are green!
Like blue, but mixed in gold!
Step back into your guarded flaws,
your garden made of stone.
I'll lift myself when I'm in pain;
you're condemned to stand alone.
And I will carry you.
She's my hero. I wish I could write like her. So yeah, check out some of her works at her site (press her name at the top of the poem). Anywho... yeah. Its all good. Tata!