Rainbows

I spent most of yesterday reading and I'm done with sociology work through Monday... which means I'm free to worry about astronomy, production, philosophy and photography! Woot! Seriously, this schedule is not working out so great for me. It's so stressful. My jaw cracks sometimes and it gets worse in proportion to my exhaustion and stress levels. Well it's been cracking a lot more frequently and a lot louder lately, and it actually hurts now. When I touch the hinge from the outside of my face, it actually feels tender. It's never been this bad before.

The randomest memory came back to me the other day. When I was younger, I had a little glass prism and I thought it was the best. I could just sit there in my room and turn it all different ways and put it up against different things to see how they would look as rainbows. I miss that, back when refracted light was a tiny miracle, back when I had time to use my imagination, back when I used to read a couple of books a week because I had that kind of time. I mean... I'm still reading at about the same rate, but nothing nearly as interesting as "The Chronicles of Narnia" or "The Emerald City of Oz." I don't know what happened to that prism I used to have - I probably gave it away at some point - but I sort of want it back. Just to remind me that my imagination is bigger than the box I have to live in.

I went over Schneckleface's for a lil heart-to-heart last night and it was really good. We talked a lot about honesty - with other people, with ourselves, and before God. I ended up continuing the conversation with Roomie when I came back and I've finally reached a plan of action for dealing with some things I'd been trying to sweep under the rug. I feel at peace right now, like things are going to be all right very soon. It's a good feeling.

Well, last order of business: I found this poem I wrote last semester when I really hated certain people. If you know about Angry Frodo you'll totally get this poem. Otherwise you'll probably think I'm a homicidal psycho jungle cat (or just a very menstrual individual... which can be true at times XD), but that's okay. You can think that. I'll love you just the same.

So maybe I’m a killer. That’s all right.
Your blood runs colder than mine.
Everything would’ve been okay
If you’d heeded me and run away.
I don’t miss you, off in your little corner of hell.
I don’t miss you cause you brought this on yourself.

Oh no, we are finished with this game.
Do your best to forget my name.
It’s over and you lost. Don’t talk to me.
No, there’s nothing left for you to save;
just bite the bullet as I walk away.
Bang, bang! You’re dead. Don’t talk to me.

You drove me to this – can’t you see?
How can you ask for my sympathy?
This here’s your little temper fit,
scripted so I’ll feel like shit–
but I’m the one who fired the gun
and I can sleep at night with what I’ve done.

Oh no, we are finished with this game.
You drove me to the point of hate.
It’s over and you lost. Don’t talk to me.
No, there’s nothing left for you to save,
so drop your empty hands as I walk away.
Bang, bang! You’re dead. Don’t talk to me.

Never thought I’d have to leave.
Never thought I’d have to lie.
Never thought it would come down to a bullet and goodbye.

Oh no, we are finished with this game.
I’ll have none of your raining on my happy parade.
It’s over and you lost. Don’t talk to me.
No, there’s nothing left for you to save.
Heave a sigh and hide your eyes as I walk away.
Bang, bang! You’re dead. Don’t talk to me.