Life comes at you fast. My freshman year in high school is quickly coming to an end, which seems to have snuck up on me. On a lot of us. I feel that I've had maybe two months of school, when in reality, it's been seven. I'm not quite sure what that means.

I've been writing a lot in the past few months. Mostly songs, some poems. Sometimes it's nice to just sit down with a pencil (never pen with me, I don't know why) and just write whatever comes to mind. More often than not, it just turns into a jumble of words that flow together. "Bubble Oxygen Breathe Calm Peace Love Trust" etc. etc.

Here's a song I wrote a couple months ago:
moonbeams dance in your eyes tonight
fire cackles once you're out of sight
laughing at me whispers cruelly
oh he doesn't love you truly

find sanctuary in the closet
crayola tears a lovely composite
un deux trois i watched you leave me
quatre cinq six how you deceived me

once more we clasp our old wool jackets
once more we render all our trust
once more we clap and make a racket
at least they will remember us

saw you yesterday on the boardwalk
shamefaced grin i think we need to talk
barely moved those tainted pink lips
just looked out at the passing steam ships

sunshine told me he saw you walking
it wasn't me with whom you were talking
holding hands and giggling together
hold her close, i'll love you forever

once more we clasp our old wool jackets
once more we render all our trust
once more we clap and make a racket
at least they will remember us
at least they will remember us
at least they will remember us
i hope they will remember us

I tend to be better at writing about things that haven't happened to me. It seems easier to draw emotion from the experiences that I dream up in my mind rather than the actual events of my life. My life is pretty boring most of the time. Actually, now that I think about it, that might be the answer...Huh.

Well, that's it for tonight. I've rambled quite enough. Have a nice...is it morning yet? No. Night.