The Smoker Pt IV
I had a dream. Another dream taken place inside a classroom. My friend's sister is a substitute teacher for my assisted learning class.
And the few fellow students. They weren't really students. They were random people from different times and different places; they were only pretending to be students.
Oh! They were so mean.
Then I woke up. I went christmas thrifting. What I really mean is I went to my friend's house, watched a movie with her pops, and then went to a thrift store and bought some presents for my family.
It was on the pit-stop I took on the way home, when it hit me. I don't know what it was.
I really couldn't.
It's funny how words don't affect me unless they come out of a certain person's mouth.
And where am I today?
coldwars at 2:55pThere are beads that wrap
Around your knees that crackle into the dark
Like a walk in the park like a hole in your head
Like the feeling you get when you realize you're dead
This time we ride roller coasters into the ocean
We feel no emotion as we spiral down to the world
And I guess it's worth your time
Because there's some lives you live
And some you leave behind
It gets hard to explain
The gardenhead knows my name
Leave me alone, for you know this isn't the first time
In fact this is twice in a row
That the angels have slipped through our landslide
And filled up our garden with snow
And I don't wish to taste of your insides
Or to call out your name through my phone
For the glory boys at your bedside will love you
As long as you're something to own
Follow me through a city of frost covered angels
I swear I have nothing to prove
I just want to dance in your tangles
To give me some reason to move
But to take on the world at all angles
Requires a strength I can't use
So I'll meet you up high in your anger
Of all that is hoping and waiting for you
I told you I would fail. I always fail everything I try my hand at.
Instead of saying "what's the point?" I say "why not". Why not try again? There shouldn't be anything to hold me back. Back isn't somewhere I want to go.
Someone told me my writing style is like Henry David Thoreau meets Jeff Magnum from Neutral Milk Hotel. Even if it's not so true, it made me feel amazing. It made me feel abnormally amazing.
I'm at my friend's house with my cat. My parents finally got around to roach-bombing the house, so here I am. I played and beat this video game called Fat Princesses. How enjoyable, I love games that don't take forever to beat.
After that, I tried to type up my paper about my Practicum experience. However, my "free-trial" of Microsoft Word is up, and it won't let me open anything. I hate paying for word processors.
I still have to attend one more funeral before the 30th. It feels like I'm running out of time, and I don't want to wish for someone to die. I did that once, and it worked! I saw an old teacher in her car as I was walking to the bus stop. I mumbled the word "i wish she would die", then that weekend, she died in a car crash.
She was of a different culture, wish it would have happened now instead of then.
Well, the poison should be out of the house by now. Guess I'll try to get Magnus back into the Kitty Carrier, and drive home. I need to poop, and I want to do it in my own bathroom.
coldwars at 2:17pI received my cap and gown. They're a witchly plain black. No embellishments. I feel like exchanging out my mortarboard for a witch's hat.
It was my last day of Practicum at Marshall Donnelly Combs. There was a strange moment, after Jim asked the two of us about our plans on graduation day. There was a mention of how I was only 20; not old enough to drink, yet about to start my career. This is something Jim was obviously familiar with, also starting his own journey into undertaking during the earlier part of last century.
Then, after he secretly, and awkwardly, slips me a fifty, he asks me about my future plans. I spit out a short summary of my dream like future of living out in the wild and be in the middle of it all.
He told me the 50 was to buy myself a dinner.
The way he said it, I couldn't tell if it was a pity handout, or a nostalgic fortune - a secret message to me from him?
coldwars at 10:52p