Emily Dickinson

You know, people in my English class may call Emily Dickinson a freak. They may call her a nature freak. They might even call her gay. But Emily Dickinson was a good poet. She didn't write about nature all of the time. Her poems about love are great. Like, Heart, We Will Forget Him.

Heart, we will forget him!
You an I, tonight!
You may forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.

When you have done, pray tell me
That I my thoughts may dim;
Haste! lest while you're lagging.
I may remember him!


Then there's this poem called I'm Nobody! Who Are You?

I'm nobody! Who are you?
Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us — don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.
How dreary to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!



I think I have a lot in common with Emily Dickinson. Then again, how would I know?

"No need to call the doctor, 'cause I'm not yet dead!"

Alright, so on livejournal.com, where I post ever so often, I always do this thing where I post funny conversations of the day. I'm thinking of just putting them on here instead. Why? No idea. I just feel like it. No one really write LJs anymore, anyway.
Anyway, so these are the kinds of things that make me laugh.

Me: "Mr. Cooper, why is it so hot in here?"
Mr. Cooper: "Because I radiate heat."

That one was actually from yesterday. Today was a pretty lame conversation day, you see. Nothing really interesting happened.

Ever since I've read Pierce in the Darkness by Frank Peretti, I've imagined demons whispering in my ear. It's easier to tell them to go away if you think about it that way. Now that we're reading the Screwtape Letters, I've started thinking that way again. Nicole, apparently, thinks like me. Last night she said, "Do you ever talk to demons?"
Naturally, I was like, "Um... what in the world are you talking about?" Then she explained, and I agreed.

This post is a bunch of nothingness piled together.

We're going to Rachael's tonight, where we'll sin and sin again. I hate it. I really do. I have a choice, don't I? It doesn't feel like I do.
The funny thing is, when you say to someone, "You're gossiping," they get all mad at you like it's your fault. I know this because Jordan tells me that I'm gossiping all of the time, and I always get mad at him. Humans never want to be held accountable for their sins. I know I don't want to be, but I know that's the way things work. When I screw things up, it's my fault.
Gossiping is a funny thing. When you're a teenage girl, it's one of the only things you do with your "girlfriends." You can't get away from it. I gossip every sinfilled day, and I hate it. That's why sleep overs aren't good ideas.

If I gain seven thousand pounds, I'm blaming Rachael and her food for tempting me to eat it...

I want to start this out by saying that today was the most awkward day I've had in a long time. Too many of my friends read my LJs, so I'm posting on here instead. Not that they'll be mad about what I'm saying, because they won't. It's just that they all have differnet opinions...
Let's discuss today, shall we?
It started out peachy keen, you know? Like any other day would have. Bible class was first, and it was fun. But that's where it all started, too.
Then there's a secondary issue.
Basically, I can't tell you anything, so I don't even know why I'm writing this. I just feel like complaining, I think. Our group is just falling apart, in a way. It's fixable, but I don't know if I want to find the glue.

Today, some kid said, "Even the smart kids want it!" He was referring to Nicole and moi. The unbelievably stupid part is that we were talking about if we wanted the lights on or off. We voted for the lights off, and so did he. What does being smart have to do with anything? Is that how I'll be remembered? The "smart kid," when I'm really not that smart at all?
I know why they think it, though. I'm quiet, and I wear glasses. Both things aren't fixable. Being louder is an option, but I always feel like I'm screaming. Getting contacts could work, but I've already tried and I can't get them in.
People are so stupid. They don't even think for themselves.
But I don't hate them, and I guess it's a sin to call them stupid.
The stupid thing is that I don't take back what I said about them being stupid.

We had an Awards Chapel. I got on the Honor Roll... again. Nicole got on High Honors... again.

Michael will be back tomorrow.

Chuck and Shannon are here. It's Chuck's 27th birthday today.

You know, I try very hard not to complain about homework or school. Really, I do try. But I think I've cracked. It's not my fault that I'm only getting a 3.1, because I do try in school. It's not my fault if the stupid Biology workbook thinks I know the answer to "Why is the trachea rather rigid and the esophagus flat and muscular?" You know, since we went over it in class and everything...

(side note: I now have an answer to that question, because as I typed it out it made sense...)

Yesterday I was talking to Stephanie about AP Euro. She said something about noticing that I had some wrong answers on my notes, but she didn't want to sound like a know-it-all and tell me about it. That just irks me. SHARE THE WEALTH! I mean, I'd be thankful to get the right answers! I wouldn't think she was a know-it-all!

Today is one crappy day, I tell you. I need to go outside and see God in things, and be happy about living. But I can't, because I have too much homework.
I could have done this homework on Friday, but I didn't.
Satuday is totally off limits, since it's the only day I feel like I have off in the week.

I'm complaining.
*dies*

I'm pretty much convinced that if Paul (from the Bible) were still alive, I'd be his biggest fangirl. Not because the actor who plays him in the movie we're watching in Bible is sort of cute, but because of the way he writes. He sort of seems like the perfect guy. Does he not?

Today, I've been seeing God in everything. Well, except for after AP Euro and all I could think about was the grade I got on the test (I past, but I thought I'd do better). Aside from that chunk of my day, it's been like, "Oh, I'm so happy God put so-n-so in my life." It makes me happy that I can recognize that He put that person there, and I didn't just meet them by chance.
This morning I read a Bible verse. I can't remember what it was, but it said something about how you shouldn't hate people. I've been struggling with my eagerness to dislike everyone who acts a certain way, you see. So the verse stood out to me. Then, when I got home I read another verse that said the same thing. Think God's trying to tell me something? Yeah, I do. So I've decided to be nice to them. Before I decided to try to be nice, now I'm taking action. I won't let them bother me.

I have to start my homework...

Hey kiddies! Let's sing the Insomnia Song! Ready? One, two, three...
...
Wait... there is no Insomnia Song. Shouldn't there be a song about insomnia to keep those of us who suffer from it entertained? Yes, I think there should. Instead I go on my nifty laptop, where I check myspace, HEX, and LJ. Too bad my nifty laptop makes me more and more awake. Yeah, thanks Toshi. (I name inanimate objected...)
Of course, there's a second option to getting over insomnia blues: writing! But it seems that creativity is on vacation.
Then there's a third option: reading one of the many books that I've been ignoring. The only problem is, I've been ignoring them for a reason. My imagination must have gone with my creativity to Rio. (Imagination and Creativity may fall under the same category, but they're different. Apparently not different enough to not want to go to Rio with each other. Oh, and see that? That's personification. Take that, 75-on-English-Final!)
Now that I've checked HEX, myspace, and LJ, the only thing left to do was come here. Which is why I'm here, discussing the options to insomnia. Now I have nothing to do!

How about this: I'll talk about my emotions, like the girl that I am.
On Friday, I couldn't wait to leave school and go home to do nothing. School has been causing nothing but stress. Saturday may have been the only fun-filled day I've had in weeks. Once Sunday rolled along, and I realized that I actually did have homework, all the stress came tumbling back. So here I am, feeling sick to my stomach with stress. I am a firm believer that fifteen-year-olds shouldn't be stressed out. We should be living our lives; making stupid decisions. Instead, I'm being the almost-wise-decision-maker. (This excludes Saturday, when I bought that awful CD for Harry Potter Week.)
Then Stacy London and Clinton Kelly (the two wonderful people from What Not To Wear) made me realize that I hate my wardrobe. Actually, I knew this before I watched their show today. It just kind of all came crashing down on me. Like, "Oh my gosh, what will I wear tomorrow?" Then I realized that it doesn't really matter, because God won't say, "Angela, change clothes, you look horrible."

I'm still not tired...