The younger rises as the old doth fall

Things have been rather weird in the past, uh, almost a month a so. The most strangest event involves the photography teacher, my friend, and her new best "acquaintance". God. I was gone for, like, two fucking class periods and now there's this--bond? Super plot to make the teacher exploitable? I don't understand and I've been given minimal information about this whole situation--"alternative lifestyles" of other teachers, including a retired one who I admired with great fervor (that was relatively, uh, devastating), other questions of sexuality and likability, and clubbing. Initially I was rather upset because it just seemed so ridiculous to go to those lengths to delve into the personal life of some guy who you have so many coincidences and who happens to be some thirty years your senior. Yeah. Fucking ridiculous shit, the way I see it. It almost makes it unbearable to face this friends..like really awkward. What the hell? For fuck's sake, how the hell did this shit come together. Pisses me off--fucking extensively.



Well, other accomplishments during this time have been the completion of reading King Lear (Shakespeare!) and Song of Solomon (Toni Morrison!!). Let me be the Cordelia to Milkman and Hagar can envy everything we have. I'll be the Edmund to Guitar and base my motives on the Seven Days.

Other than that I have nothing else to say or do for the time being.

I forgot it was cas fri..damn.

Thinking and even more thinking. Although the week passed by rather quickly, every single day lagged on and on and there were some immoral events that occurred and even more so to come. There need not be any specific mention-ings, but I will hint at the scary, troubled things..ahem, hem. In all honesty I am not really looking forward to the weekend. Maybe just Saturday because I am terribly obliged to take a test--much like the fucking SAT but not nearly as supposedly important. I'm truly upset about that; I would rather sleep in, play video games, or even start being serious about not procrastinating. That damn test totally ruins my weekend, although it was never that great to begin with. I am going to be visiting some university on Sunday. Something I am absolutely looking forward to next week, asides performing a skit based on Molière's Misanthrope and and economics test, is a four-day "vacation" to Boston/Amherst, Massachusetts and the surrounding areas of interests in the east. Buffalo, NY? That brings back memories of some guy.

I've also noticed that my mind has retracted to an elementary state. The majority of my thoughts are very similar to the ones I had back in grade school. I don't know why. It's strange.

Death it.

Officially the worst spring break; everything thing this week terrible--the weather, the studying, the depressing anti-motivational talks--awful, awful deeds. Not fun at all and it's my senior year in school and I was at least expecting some kinda good times. Well, there's that for you. To top it all off: test tomorrow! Awesome.



Oh, check out my easter. This bunny ain't giving out any eggs or candy kids. It's more or less dead like the enthusiasm I have for being at the moment.

When I grow up I'm going to be _________

I don't know. Fucking bullshit.
A commemorative post to those who have to care, but would really rather dismiss the issue. Damn super fucking "geniuses". Damn them all.

The United States is the new Rome

Paralleling ancient civilizations is our job. So, along with my old series of watching whatever interesting-seeming movie that happens to be on television: The Shape of Things.


I was drawn in by the appearance of Paul Rudd and, later, Rachel Weisz. I just saw the ending parts, learning most/part of the story of transforming this person to look better on the outside and rotten on the inside in the name of art. While Evelyn (Weizs) was presenting her final creation she reveled her method of manipulating Rudd's character (his name departs me at the moment) into an relatively trim, egomaniac. It was rather sad when he found out, especially since he was going to ask her to marry him and such. Cruel educational pursuits.

Anti-Valentine's + Beverly Hills, San Marino & Connecticut

What about it? It's another ..I'm not gonna say "loveless", but ...ehmm it's ridiculously ..something. I was thinking of the trite ideas that have turned this holiday into something quite inflated. Didn't much care, did I?



School occurences: conversations about rich places (see title.. the state is said to have the greatest per capita income. my teacher says. it also sound like it shouldn't belong) and wondering whether some ASB roses were designated to bachelor teachers and Anthony Hopkins getting all crazy as Torvald Helmer.

usually it's clever. not today.

So sad to have the bears lose the Superbowl. As a native Chicagoan (?), my family was intensely watching the game and I think I felt something die a little inside when I speculated the bears had lost. Mhmm. Ok. We digress from this recent travesty.

At this time I should be studying for tests, but I feel an obligation to enlighten my intermediate world with my petty life. First, the change in the blog-like name. 'Verbal Punches' appears to make more sense in a blogical manner--I create catchy titles or whatever and it has a funny family story behind it. I don't want to get into it now. It's quite brief. Um, also relatively new--first semester grades: C,A,A,B. Caab. I made a terrible vow to do better in at least two classes this time around and at the moment I seem to be doing a'ight. My econ teacher, though, is some crazy, old cat lady who seems to know all this stuff about the young people. It really surprised me much. She knew about Coachella, no less...I've never been and there's a desire to go (um, expensive and, uh, yes).