Bone Thugs N (and?) Harmony, Crossroads. The sound of this song is transcendent.

And speaking of transcendent, have I mentioned how totally in love I am? (No, not with Mr. L, you pointless internet-obsessed little scandal-seeking vermon) I'll get to it...talking to Andrew tomorrow, after that I can finally just put it all out there.

But, since your morbid curiousities make your pulses pound in middle-aged anticipation, I guess I should include that, yes, seeing Mr. L was excellent. I didn't really bat an eyelash. Sorta like always, except....well, I don't know. Felt more productive or something. Found myself staring at him just thinking "Holy shit...it's Mr. L, right here. I'm talking to him. This is....holy shit." He's one of those people that, for me, sort of glows by virtue of hisself. Maybe it was lighting or something, but somebody should be painting portraits of him. I guess we put halos around people who are saviors to us, though.

He mentioned that he bets every teacher at Lisbon High has read or is reading this- I argued with him, but it's got me curious now. (This, by the way, is where I got the "middle-aged anticipation" reference from) Maybe a few of them, other than those who I know have or are, do....and wouldn't that be great? To have all these people following my life, knowing my mood as I walk down the hallway and thinking about what they had read the night before. Wanting to comment but thinking perhaps that their jobs might be in jeopardy if Dicky-boy found out that, yes, they are one of the many readers of the most private, personal publicized thoughts about Miss Linda H.

Thinking about the teachers there, I don't think it's really possible for most of them...but if any of you are out there and enjoying this, man, you wouldn't be able to put down what Mr. Hall gets to read

I should start writing things for no other reason than to be noteworthy to those who aren't allowed to take note. :-} I'll have to start working on that. And y'all can start a pool as to the exact date when I'll get kicked out of good ol' Lisbon High for good. And never step foot in that place again, just like Stephen King.

Wouldn't it be cool if he were reading this? One of these days, I'm gonna have a fan base.


I think I'd want them (teachers) to be reading it just to give them some sort of renewed sense of how real students actually are. How much we really are people, as much as them, if not moreso. Give them some perspective on how much more we have to care about than fucking overdue book reports and other such educational bull shit. You know what, faculty everywhere? My friends cry, and they need me, and I have a family I'm striving to avoid and a past I'm trying to get ahead of, and a passion for writing and living and loving outside the confines of that academic prison, and every now and then (probably a little more, too) I break down. And it's because of bullshit just like you go through.

To work in a school, as a teacher, is to give more than just a a little of your life to it. But maybe they aren't conscious of the fact that we never chose to be students, and we're off devoting our lives, tentatively, to things that will define who we are every bit as much as being a teacher defines them.

Don't know what to write anymore...

"Now for ten years we've been on our own
And moss grows fat on a rolling stone
But that's now how it used to be.
When the jester sang for the king and queen
In a coat he borrowed from James Dean
In a voice that came from you and me
Oh, and while the king was looking down
The Jester stole his thorny crown
The courtroom was adjurned
No verdict was returned
And while Lennon read a book on Marx
The court kept practice in the park
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day the music died."
~If you don't know what it's from, you suck anyway.

(that quote didn't have any real significance right now....I just like it and it's what I'm playing...)

singing and dancing my way to hell......on with it....