riding on the diamond waves, little darling one

argh. argh. argh. ally watson, bitch of the century, somehow found out a certain very big secret of angelos that i wont divulge, but lets just say, its BIG. im not sure how she found out, but she finds it cute, and is telling everyone about it. sucks for him, sure, but i ended up being dragged into it because she hates me, so she told him that im the one that told her this secret, which is totally untrue. im not going to lose him again. and no bitchy chick is gonna get in my way.

and you run and you run to catch up with the sun, but its sinking

well, i got him back. the other day in science, i totally fell apart. i was down. way down. downer than ive ever been. he said he didnt know what he was thinking when he went away and wanted to try again. i had been waiting so long to hear those words, but it was strangely hard to accept. im sure this time around will be better, since we both know what we did wrong. he felt like he had my life in his hands (which he did) and it was too heavy of a burden for him to carry. all i ask of him is that he talks every once and a while. i want to know what's on his mind. but yesterday, we were on the phone, and for the past 2 months or so it seems, our conversations ended with a stark goodbye. but this conversation ended with me saying goodbye, and him saying "i love you". i burst into tears of joy after he hung up. just what i wanted to hear.

i really am getting pretty effing tired of living here. i wish we were older, so we could drive off to chicago and start a new life there together, like he promised me we would someday. but this time, i know better than to believe him for sure. of course, that is, more than anything, what i want. to spend my life with him, in a city of art and culture. we probably couldnt get much farther than chicago anyways. 

where will all the martyrs go when the virus cures itself? and where will we all go when its too late?

ok my life is officially ruined. my parents found out about my grades and are now out to wreak havoc on my life. micro-management, no privileges, no nothing. i don;t do the work for school because of how distracted ive been with love, but they would scoff if i told them that, so i have no excuse at all. now i dont think that theyre going to let me go to the mall with lydia and angelo tomorrow even though they already said yes. im pissed. and i got new scars. hoo. rah.

i wanna hear you when you call, do you feel anything at all?

why is it that valentine's day seems to get worse with the passing years? this might be the worst valentine's ever. now i know that valentine's day is a hallmark holiday, but i won't preach anti-consumerism here, as i myself fall victim to marketing ploys. i don't buy things on valentine's day. i take it as a universal day of love. but as we all know, today happened to be friday the 13th. in science today, he told me he still loves me. like he used to. said he used to. but he won't go out with me. where in his mind does that make sense? i don't know. thats his favorite phrase, and about all that i can ever get out of him. i just wish he would read this blog so that he can hear what i can't say. so that he would know that i wish he payed attention to me. because i can't believe that he cares, because he doesn't act like he does. i wish he would take a chance. being honest takes courage. and i wish he would take risks for me, like i have for him. angelo, if you ever read this, know that i was crying while you typed on the computer, in your total oblivion. because you say that you love me, but if you really do, then start acting like it. love is an idea, not a object.

boredom is overtaking me and my hand is full of words

school has officially reached a new low. an all time low. hehe i like that band. anyways, we started "cpr" today, creating positive relationships, not mouth-to-mouth. basically, sex ed, with a different name. just like they call shop tech-ed and home ec consumer sciences or some other retarded thing. so cpr is a class where they tell you that sex is terrible and respect your elders and love doesn't exist unless you're a conformist picture of societies' lies and false fronts. basically, cpr stands for everything that i stand against. it'd be like me singing in church, like martin luther king jr being in the kkk, like george bush being sane. i absolutely hate it. i sit in the very back of the room with my feet up on the back of my prep-bud kendall's chair in my usual slackerly style. i then proceed to hold my binder in front of my face to stop myself from bursting out laughing at the teacher's complete oblivion. in my total bordeom, i worked on this beauty:

pretty sweet right? the phrases are upside down and faded from washing my hands after my hamster peed on it. made brownies for angelo as an apology for nothing, but maybe he would forgive me for the bad stuff that he did, whatever it takes, ya know? and he said he hates brownies! who hates brownies? crazy people, that's who.

long time no see and comp papers

sorry that i havent been on in a while! this would be due largely to the fact that, except for comp, history, and band, im pretty much flunking out of school. im a smart kid, dont get me wrong (my iq is near genius), but i just hate school. thats really it. but im trying to get on top of things, because i have to get a b or higher in my sem 2 grade for english in order to take french next year. and i really wanna take french, and it gets me out of a semester of gym and NO MORE COMP!!! hoorah! but i digress. i really posted this to put up the paper i wrote for comp, in which i have the meanest teacher in the school, hands down. mrs. prater. words cant even begin to describe her wrath. but i decided to go out on a limb, and write a paper about the imperfections of comp. so here it is in all it's glory.

So what about the writers?

Composition is a mandatory class that is required by law to be taken by all 7^th grade students, and I intend to use this opportunity to display my “smarts” to the best of my ability, but I can’t help but question the things that we are taught in composition class. Is challenging a teacher a good thing to do? I’m not sure but I’m a risk-taker, and considering that you barely know me, I haven’t really got much to lose. So I’ll make my feelings clear. I do not think that people can be taught to be “good writers”. Following 6+1, (although a generally good system) doesn’t make your writing necessarily good, but it usually makes it just like everyone else’s.

First, let’s talk conventions. I gladly adhere to most convention rules, like periods and capital letters. Where would we be without them? Well, our writing would probably look SOMETHINGLIKETHEANCIENTROMANS. That was hard to read wasn’t it? That’s why we have convention rules.  So that we can read things in a way that everyone can understand and read simply and easily. Conventions can be taught, and easily adhered to. Conventions are either wrong or right. No Questions asked. But others of the 6+1 traits are not so easily judged.

Voice. Definitely the most difficult to grade, read, understand, etc. of all writing traits. For the most part, this is due to the reason that writing is such a personal thing, (unless it’s expository of course). I’ve always thought that the way that I write is the way that I would talk if I had enough time. I always use “big words” when writing things, especially for teachers, because I’m not afraid of them calling me a “walking dictionary” like my friends would. (Sounds like a compliment, but I don’t take it that way.) I just realized that this is probably one of the strangest papers that I’ve ever written. Haha! What do you do about that? Spontaneous interjection of thought: should you take off for organization, or consider that good voice since being spontaneous is part of my personality? Are you beginning to see the faults in the system? I hope that you are.

Word choice is actually one of the simplest 6+1 writing traits to carry out “effectively” but gets on my nerves the most. One reason is that, just like “good writing” itself, word choice is occasionally just a matter of preference. Personally, I think that writing that is dotted with far too many extravagant words can sometimes just take from the nature of the writing. Fancy words and the kind of voice that one in particular would like to read, just can’t be shoved down kids’ throats. I use a lot of big words, because they naturally make sense to me. I’ve always had a big vocabulary, and I don’t jam big, fancy words in my writing just to please someone. But not everyone has a big vocabulary. Big words don’t come naturally to everyone. But it doesn’t mean that they’re bad writers.

One last thing I’d like to tackle, editing, revising, and pre-planning. The idea of these things absolutely causes me to cringe. For one thing, I don’t edit. I just don’t. Once I write something, it’s set in stone, and I won’t go back on it unless it was a conventional error. Pre-planning is my largest issue with writing, as writing just flows naturally with me, and frankly, it makes writing seem like a science, and not an art. I really lose a part of writing through pre-planning, and although it nearly killed me, (okay that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the point) I forced myself to pre-plan this paper, because it was required. But I think the artful part of writing is somehow lost track of, even with all of that organization and planning.

Well hooray, you’ve nearly finished my rant on the imperfections of how writing is perceived in public schooling! But don’t misunderstand my intentions, I don’t mean to be a miser, just to bring my ideas forward, and maybe shake you up a little. I would put a smiley face here, but you would take points off for that.