01/10/2001 - 8:53 p.m.

Grumbles

Today, I'm pretty glad I write. All this diary stuff is coming in handy. Our Thespian One Act is about the WTC dealy, and T wants what we thought. It's so nice that I have this backlog of stuff I can just print off. It's what I actually thought, not what I think now because somebody says that I need to think something. It's unadulterated me, and maybe its crass. Oh well. That's me.

I don't deal with death because it's never happened to me, and right now, I don't know how many people I care about enough to make death matter to me. So for the time being, I don't care, and I'll act as such, compassionless. What is death anyway that we get so worked up about it?

Enough about that. I get school off tomorrow, everybody else gets to take tests, yippie. (I think I'd rather take the tests.) I don't know what I'm going to do until one (well, sleep).

Rich's birthday yesterday. Didn't send him a card cause I couldn't and he was hurt. I made it up to him today, I hope.

Suffering because I don't get any mail back from people. I wish everyone wasn't so busy. Sigh.

If there's any demand to continue the story that was my last entry, let me know. I could do this on my own if I wished, and then I could go back and edit. This way, it's Dickens, whatever has happened, happened: I cannot change the past. (In the beginning, he wrote for column inches, and so he couldn't go back and change things, because the public had read it already.) Why else would one write mysterys and life stories? Why do you think David Copperfield was so long?

I'm sick of the morons in my English class. If I were a different sort of person... Let's just say that because I'm not, they ought to value their lives quite highly right now and be glad that I'm chicken enough to spare them.

If I were a foolhardy type of person, I'd do a whole lot of things that I oughtn't. As I've got a chicken shit conscience, I'm just really crass and sarcastic- I let things go on in my mind and then laugh evily. I am extremely corrupted. And really, if it weren't for the competition between school views and home views, I might be as nice as I seem to people who don't know me pretty well.

We had all kinds of senior garbage today. I refuse to have anything to do with the typical stuff they want us to do to be seniors. Pay 40 bucks to walk through a college gym in a dorky robe that doesn't fit because your weight is distrubuted unevenly, sit between two people you barely know, and listen to somebody you hate talk about how wonderful high school is, and how great we all are- American pompousity at it's finest- and then get a certificate that says you graduated, whatever that's supposed to signify. I'm going to sing and then get out, and I'm only going to sing because I have no other choice, Mr. Walag would probably personally kill me if I didn't show up.

It's 30 bucks for "social dues", to sit in some dance room (yet another gym or an auditorium probably) from eight or nine at night until midnight, surrounded by horrible music and people you barely know. This also includes senior party, where they lock you in the school from 8 PM one night until 5 AM the next day. Yeah, that's what I want out of life, to sit in my SCHOOL for 9 hours, yet again with the bad music and people you neither know or care about.

If Josie wants me to go to prom and shit that bad, she'd better raise the 30 bucks and then drag me there, cause there's no other way I'm going. High school sucks. I can't wait until I'm out of here. There has to be more to life than high school. Cos assures me there is. Rich says it doesn't get better though. I don't know who to believe.

Man, I've worked myself into a pretty bad mood. Even the happy things I think of turn back into something bad. I wish everything wasn't so holistic.