A violent symphony

     It's so simple but artistic at the same time. I mean, it obviously takes skill and coordination to be a good soccer player but I think people overlook the beauty of it.
     When I saw them play today, when I watched the perfect passes, I imagined a ballad of brass instruments roaring in sync with one another. When the other team disrupted the passing cycle, I heard the flat notes of the stringed instruments. It sounded so sour and so beautiful at the same time, as though each harsh noise was made to oppose the preceding beauty. When a goal was made, the spectators cheered and I heard some child run his tiny hands across a grand piano--another disruption to the harmony of the brass section. His in-home piano instructor scowls at him, so the child returns to practicing his scales...

     Even the raw action of the soccer players was amazing. The perfect timing of SDB's header, the wall his team created, the speed that the players reached to get to the ball. Have you ever seen those check card commercials, where one guy pays with cash and ruins the order of things? Well that's soccer for you, only violent. I think that the aggressiveness makes it just that much more interesting. The way the you feel your heart racing even though you're on the sidelines. The way you want to yell words of encouragement but hold back in such a way that it causes a small upset in your body. The way you are so focused on the game that the high chilled winds are nothing but an inconvenience.

     I was only disappointed that not everyone on SDB's team had his dedication and desire to win. A lot of them seemed passive and let the other team get the ball before acting. I watched and wondered what it would be like if wars were settled with soccer... it would be quite interesting. A violent symphony for the sake of your country...

     The day went on swell. We ate, I corrected SDB's paper about selling houses, SDB's dad flicked me off, I actually had a conversation with SDB's brother, and laughed mostly.

    And to end on a completely different note, SDB is now supremely black and almost ordered the perfect racist meal at IHOP: waffles and fried chicken. xD 

Infinite castle

     Time does strange things sometimes. Today, for instance, it was slow and patient yet somehow, it passed too quickly. It's comparable to day-light savings--as I was just getting used to the pointless time change, an hour was stripped away. (Does that make sense? I think I worded it sort of awkwardly but hopefully you get the jist.)
     When you see a pile of approximately seven mattresses/box springs, what do you do? Well you would probably do nothing, you would probably wonder about them, but you would continue going about your business. But I, on the other hand, would see a personal trampoline! So I bolted towards the marvelous pile of springy goodness, climbed atop and jumped as high as I safely could. Chris joined me and we almost tumbled down, ha ha. Somehow, I managed to cut my leg but that's so typical of me. We decided to get breakfast for lunch--some "Texas Slices" (WOO TEXAS! Ha ha.) or as most people call it--french toast.
     But to sum it up, today was a day of observations and randomness. Duck museums and the Christmas Mouse. It was a day of newness, a newness that makes me happy.<33

"Sand is overrated. It's just tiny, little rocks."

-Joel  Barish, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Trivial matters make all the difference

     Yesterday morning, Mr. Blaire--Kasey's other half--handed me a small, trinket-sized Buddha. It has a loop on the back so one can wear it as a charm on a necklace; but when it was given to me, Mr. Blaire referred to it as a pocket Buddha. The result was a small Buddha in my pocket, obviously.
     When I told Ligia about it, she asserted that Mr.Blaire had tried to give it to her amongst other people. I wasn't phased because I know that he just wanted to find it a good home rather than throw it away. And I guess you can say that the Buddha has made its way to my heart.
     Though I'm still cursed with hitting all the red lights, I feel like this Buddha has granted me a lot of luck. It has given me confidence to out rap Matt Brenson, granted me bold spontaneity, and happiness. Today was such a simple day... but I was left overwhelmed with joy.<3 Bare feet and bridges, and talking about a wide variety things--and nothing. I don't know how to describe the day without over simplifying or making tornados out of fallen sheets of music.
     It was just... amazing, and I'll leave it at that.

(:

Tsk, tsk

     On Monday, I meant to come here and do a rant. I have probably simmered down by now but my topic is rude people. And so I shall comence.(:

     I was minding my own business while walking to calss after lunch. There was a male student looking over the railing of the stairs. "Not a big deal, " I assumed internally, as I carried on my way to Astronomy. The boy on the railing took a step back and directly onto my foot. My reaction? I screamed. (Take note that I was wearing flats so the extent to which it pained me was higher than if I had wore tennis shoes. You know what? That doesn't even matter. You'll see.) The student seemed in a rush as he ran away and pushed himself through the crowed of people going upstairs. I was infuriated. It was not anger as the result of my foot being stepped on, but rather, the indecency of not taking 0.5 seconds of breath to mutter "sorry". Seriously, what kind of person does that (intentionally or unintentionally) without apologizing? I'll tell you who--rude, inconsiderate jerks!
     The end of the school day came and I found Matt. We started conversing and mid-conversation, he hugs this girl for a long time then ignores the fact that we were having a conversation in the first place. I was waiting on the side of Matt and this girl, when this guy comes behind me and mutters, "bitch..." I turn and he looks mortified. "Sorry," he says as he moves passed me. I sigh and glance over at Matt and impatiently make my way to my bus alone. I wouldn't have been mad if Matt simply told me that this girl was giving him a ride and that he had to go. Or "See you later Passíon." or "I gotta go." Or anything besides being extremely rude and leaving me hanging in the middle of our conversation.
     After not talking to him for all of Tuesday (B day which I see him frequently and sit next to him at lunch) he called me after school to ask, "What's your problem?" Yes, that's exactly how you talk to someone who's mad at you for being rude--with more rudeness! -_-" I explained to him why I was "royally pissed" at him and his response was, "she was giving me a ride home, what was I supposed to do?" I explained that it wasn't a reason to leave me hanging, that he could have at least said bye or something. His defense was that I do it to him, which I don't. If you are I are holding a conversation, the other person can wait or, if it's important, I'll tell you that we'll catch up later. How hard would that have been? Not hard at all, but people in this day and age are rude, agressive beings who don't give two hoots about manners.

Untitled poem 1

We were a beautiful civilization for such a time yet all that remains is the splendor of artifacts, ancient but new. We knew the king and queen would tire of one another but to say when... not a soul knew.
I look at the three gorgeous relics that were left in my possession--how different from one another they are but how oddly similar they are. Dating them back proves that they each were taken from an era of their own, but how do they fit so will together when they are varieties of ages? It is almost as though they were made a set by some old soul who lived in all three eras.
It's such a shame though, that the kingdom did fail, as strong as it was. Although the end was palpable it was unforeseeable--even those who felt the end coming could not fathom it actually happening.
The month of March is the slowest for the queen, well, the former. But what for the king of her past? (Hmph, I assume he's been through July already.) Remnants of the village pain the queen still. Dear King, how goes everything?

March 6th, 2011