Sing for absolution.

On all my desks in school, I write "Sing for absolution" in thick lead at the top, where you place your pencil. I do it in hopes that the people who have my desk periodically throughout the day see it, and that someone will like the band Muse. Then, we could write the lyrics down in order, and it would be magical. Unfortunately, no one has done this. The only thing that has occurred was that someone tried to erase it. Of course, I wrote it back in. 


Today is the bassist of Muse's birthday (Christopher Wolstenholme). I donned a fake, paper mustache in honour of his. I don't like mustaches, but it was completely necessary. My friend Tracy joined me in this act. If anyone asked me about it, I just said I was going incognito today, which, no one believed that. Natalie came over to me, and I quickly put it on. Dialogue as followed.


Natalie: Are you serious?
Caroline: I am completely serious. (Here, I danced a little bit with my mustache).
Natalie: (After being completely weirded out) Turn around.
Caroline: Why...? Oh. Hi Rob.
Rob: Do I want to know?
Caroline: I'm incognito today.
Rob: Uh huh.
Caroline: Clearly, my facial hair is more impressive than yours.


Then, he proceeded to apologize for signing out on me the other night. I mean, there was a lot of other things, which I will get into after I finish about my day.


School is always pretty much boring. Nothing really happens in December. Teachers are always trying to prepare things for us to do over the winter break. In addition to that, they're trying to cram the lessons they have planned for the month in two short weeks. Can you believe it? Winter break is almost here! Here I am, still thinking that yesterday was the first day of school. Thinking that yesterday was the day I almost broke down in tears because of marching band. This year is going so fast.


Class went on like usual. English goes way too quickly, which is a big change of pace. English always used to be a drag for me, and even then, I loved English. I feel so fortunate to have a teacher like Fleming. She makes the usual over analyzed novel read a lot more enjoyable than it should be. 


As I was saying for what Rob did the night prior, I was trying to get an opinion out of him. He said I could talk to him about anything, even after when he goes to college. So, I did. As I am sending him blocks and blocks of text, he is giving me half-hearted answers, and I don't stand for that. I give my advice to everyone, and I give decent advice (At least, I like to believe so). To receive such dispassionate responses didn't settle well with me. He later signed out without warning, and I had decided that I was done. Which, I kind of am. He doesn't make me nervous as much as he did, which is a great thing. 


But, I can honestly see how he can be very self-important at times. In my fit of rage last night, I wrote this. I think I'll submit it to the literary magazine, but I don't want him to pick it up and realize that I'm talking about him. So, I'll have to think about it a little bit.


"You"


"You give me a false sense of security.
A being,
a shoulder,
a lifeline.


I wanted to stand,
my heart exposed,
in your honour.
Now, I pull the trigger in your direction.


Your thoughts befuddle mine.
Word vomit desecrating the ground.
Toxic fumes, caustic.
I remain heartless.


I defended your soul.
I am your enemy."


My rage also allowed me to finish another poem of mine. 


"Cadmium Red"


"I'd rather slit my own throat.
Not hers.
Let blood drip down my throat,
and convulse, convulse, convulse.


The blade twists.
I'm happy.
I only find my heart,
it's bursting out.


I'd rather taste cold, heartless metal.
Round on my tongue.
Take one for you, 'cause,
I suppose emotions breathe again.


My arteries between your canines.
The most beautiful pain,
painted a fantastic work,
on the wall."


Hi, I'm Caroline, and I am suffering from teenage angst. 


I also think this is a great quote.

‎"I remember one night in a hotel when I was like, seven. I drank real milk for the first time, and I swear to God, it was like an epiphany. A milk epiphany. I drank all the milk and cried when there wasn't anymore." - Ali.

Day 02: Where you'd like to be in ten years.


Ten years from now...wow. I mean, it's a long time, but it isn't at the same time. I'll be twenty-five, for God's sake. That's not what scares me. It's a whole, "I don't want to grow up" complex. 


In ten years, I hope that I've stayed in touch with all my friends from high school and college. I also hope that I live in a big city, always teeming with life. I want a tiny apartment, but not too tiny. I want my apartment to have one really nice chair next to a giant bookcase with a small side table and a tiny lamp. I want to spend many evenings there. 


I'm also hoping that in ten years that I've found love, and I'm either in a great relationship, engaged or married. 


In addition to that, I want to have a job either at a magazine as a writer. I don't like journalism too much, but, something that needs someone to write stories or poetry for some publication. Maybe I'll even have a publication of my own out on the market.