I FUCKINGHATE SCHOOL.

IM SO FUCKING BORED>

little wing

guns cant kill what soldiers cant see

FUCK+

my teacher threw away my writings. i really wanted to reead them again. i cant believe he did that. poor old man, throwing away treasures mistaken for trash. he needs that hearing aid fixed. and his glasses intensified. if he wants to keep up with the modern world, he has got to be equipped.
the rain wont stop pouring, and the people keep pilign up in this room. just to get a glimpse at warmth. theres no heaters in this school. but all the body heat combined is working as a fine substitute. i havent eaten all day today. i'm hungry. and there is something i could do about it but i dont want to go trudging across the school just to get a pb &j on stale bread. i can't wait to get out of here, i only have four more quarters. 44 days each, that is 176 days, only 880 more hours in this institution. my boyfriend would be proud to here me referring to this school as an institution, i supoose in many ways it is.

i want to go to cuba

2:30 pm

ive never known how to move on
acceptance for me is like breathing underwater
I pray for the day when my mind is content
when my body is healthy
when my soul is correct
let me reside in my wisdom
not crumble in the faults
I sit and i think
about nothing
in particular
and its in that nothingness
that i find and loose myslef
why is my life such a contridiction
why are my words never my words
the gravity of lifes end
will release me from doubt,
insanity,
my lack of strength, of patience
im old and dead
rotten and molding
I resent my life
my mind
my body

lets try not to fuck with our maker. mother nature will bite your bitch ass.

school shmool.

i really hate how people treat me here. theres no respect. if they had any idea how far away from their thoughts i was. if only they knew me. its like my skin is green. and everyone keeps saying " your skin is red." and they get mad at me, cus my skin is red. but its fucking not. nor will it ever be. not even a little bit. i love people. i hate what they can do sometimes. the evil within them, makes me so sad... i just loose faith all the time. gaining it back is the hardest part. losing it is so much easier. why is life so hard? i dont evn want things to make sense, i dont want to be my mother, so sure of everything thats not true. so convinced her age has to do with her ability to see the truth.

i can not breathe in this polluted air

sensiblebusiness man coated ingold

how it is

The sensible living
aren’t interested in the dead,
unless there is money in it.
So little you can do with them.
What they say is in your head.
They visit in dreams but turn their backs
when you beg them to stay.
They are never hiding in your closet.
Empty jackets, loose sleeves yawn
on the hangers. Their cold feet
that they rubbed and rubbed
with their long sensitive fingers,
before they put on their socks,
never come back with their fine
fitted bones to warm your bed.

the ugly truth

In the Next Galaxy
Things will be different.
No one will lose their sight,
their hearing, their gallbladder.
It will be all Catskills with brand
new wrap-around verandas.
The idea of Hitler will not have vibrated yet.
While back here,
they are still cleaning out
pockets of wrinkled
Nazis hiding in Argentina.
But in the next galaxy,
certain planets will have true
blue skies and drinking water.