music: "Po Lazarus," James Carter & the Prisoners (the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack)
I've decided that there's good reason I'm sick of school. People get so competitive, and so wrapped up in their own egos and levels of intelligence. I'm not saying I'm not to blame -- in high school I was the worst -- but I'm just saying I'm tired of it. I don't want to worry about it anymore, and I don't want to stress about how smart I am, or whether or not my writing is worthy of anyone's notice. On top of that, I at the VERY LEAST never questioned Mr. Sullivan's opinions. Never.
I think I'm a pretty good writer when I sit down and think about what I'm writing, and I am very content with my poetry because it expresses what I need to express. No one's ever read my poetry, because my keeping it private also keeps it from becoming corrupted, or written to please anyone. I write it for me. Everyone who writes should do it for himself. No bones about it.
Anyway, on with more pathetic things... like the fact that I'm a little bit sick. Seriously, I NEVER get sick. I have a little runny nose and a small, mild sore throat. I'm sure it will be gone by tomorrow.
Let's hope. Oh, time for Daria. Got to run!