"Pirate Ship Name Generator" - Shiver Me Timbers and All That Jazz

  • The Disgrace of the Eel
  • The Dragon's Barnacle
  • The Hellish Doubloon of Hades
  • The Red Hoard
  • The Vile Strumpet of the Ocean

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

We Sail Through Our Youth So Impatiently

Okay so. Short post today. I have tests in Latin & Economics tomorrow. But I DESPERATELY need to plug the new Vanessa Carlton CD.

It. Is. AMAZING.

There are songs on here that don't even really relate to me.
But somehow they do.
Like.
Okay. The song, "Come Undone" has a line that made me tear up for no apparent reason the first time I heard it. I had to pause it. And just sit for a second.

"There are people in this lifetime
That we should never meet.

'Cause to be here now without you,
Well, my life's so incomplete.
I'll tell you what you mean to me
And maybe then you'll see."

That whole verse just struck me. Especially the first line. Just. Wow.

And her piano playing. CHRIST. She is amazing. I will probably be listening to nothing but this CD for a week. It is that great. She's like the John Mayer of the piano. Just unbelievable.

And to think that an hour ago I thought I was going to listening to nothing but The Used this week. Life really is full of très magnifique surprises.

But most of all:

Music, I salute you.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

A Romantic's Lament (In Which I Waste Time That I Do Not Have)

I want to sleep. I should try. I might try. But I know it's no use.
Thoughts of him won't let me be.
Dammit, boy.
Why can't my heart behave?
"They're so cute together."
Well. Yes. They are.
But that doesn't make it easier to see them walking, side-by-side.
He's always smiling at her.
She's always smiling back.
I'm sure they talk about everything.
Not just one, stupid dead language.
He talks to her about lots of other things.
Because he enjoys talking to her.
That's all I ask for.
Not for what they have.
But that maybe he'd enjoy talking to me too.
If only a little bit.
Please?


Such poetic sadness. I should slap myself. That wasn't even meant to be a poem. I just started breaking the lines off. I think it's because I'm used to writing like that now. Arg. The shorter lines don't mean less of the truth, though. I miss him. Right now. I miss his face. Even though I'll see it for another 45 minutes straight tomorrow, and 55 for the two days after that.
It's borderline creepy. Actually. It's probably completely creepy. He doesn't know, of course. But I feel creepy. And utterly powerless. I hate it. It's unfair. Why can't my heart dwell on someone attainable? Someone that I can pursue without the bittersweet taste of regret already filling my senses. It tastes/smells/feels/looks/sounds like cyanide and the sky just before it rains.

It's strangely enticing.
I hate it.


Until next time,
When my heart,
If all goes well,
Will be behaving itself.

-Zanzibar George