ahhh random update.

i can 't wait for school to be over. i could do creative writing and english and almost everything except latin non-stop, and i'd be cool with it. augh, Latin haunts me like a bloody spectre.

i'm totally pschyed for this weekend. first, white water rafting for three days. then, giant party on sunday. it should be kinda sweet.

i'm writing a story about the end of the world. it's much, much too fun.


end ramble.

so, i have been ignoring my computer a lot. i really haven't dealt with my email in a couple of weeks. it feels a little like kicking heroine. not that i really know what that feels like, but you catch the drift.

my short story is handed in, for all of you who cared, and SATs and AP exams are alll over. we're watching The Godfather I,II, and III in history now, which makes me want to talk in a scratchy italian accent all the time. we also planned our giant end-of-the-year AP party, which is going to be a nasty bash, i'm psyched.

also, Seth may be going to prom. (prays) if i do go, it'll be absolutely insane, because the group i'd be going with is pretty much the coolest bunch of seniors ever. plus, it'll be my first time actually going to a formal dance (with a date, no less!).

everything else is prettymuch just chill.

latah,

Seth

ahhh SATs and AP exams. nothing gives me greater pleasure. hah, right. i'm not stressing, but i'm not looking forward to struggling through essays and little circles to fill in for the next week or so. and, on top of that, i have all kinds of writing homework to do. suuuper.

got that out of my system! :D hmm hmm. i'm kinda looking forward to summer, Europe should be pretty fun and all, but i dunno. i want a change. something to mix it up just the littlest bit in my life. like, right now, i'm not romantically involved with anyone, or even hinting at it. that's a first in like...four years. or five. or six. weird.

hm. since i have no money, i think i'm gonna trot down to the boho and pinch a cup of icewater. pinch as in steal, silly.

and then SAT studies and short story writing. and maybe history. bleghh.



Leaning against the wall
I saw you looking so hot
Walked towards your smile (?)
And groovy glancing
Looking in each others eyes
And there's not
Any exchange of words
We just start dancing

Baby I'm a stranger
You're a stranger to me
But we're moving and we're grooving
Baby I'm a stranger
That's in danger of
Falling for you and your grooving
Even though you never said a word
I'm glad you can woo me
With your booty
Baby I'm a stranger
You're a stranger to me
But we're moving and we're grooving, oh

By the way you move
Your gorgeous body
Somehow I can read your
Thoughts so clearly
Baby don't you stop that
Dance karate
Ain't no ninja master
Coming near

Baby I'm a stranger
You're a stranger to me
But we're moving and we're grooving
Baby I'm a stranger
That's in danger of
Falling for you and your grooving
Even though you never said a word
I'm glad you can woo me
With your booty
Baby I'm a stranger
You're a stranger to me
But we're moving and we're grooving

Eleven o'clock
Twelve o'clock
Don't stop the music
One forty-five
Two o'clock
Don't stop the music
Seven o'clock
Eight o'clock
Don't stop the music
Don't stop this sound
(???)
Dancing till our feet
Are burning down the disco
Dancing till our shoes
Tear a crater in the floor
Dancing till our toes
Are starting a tornado
Dancing like no mortal man
Has ever danced before

Eleven o'clock
(Dancing till our feet)
Twelve o'clock
(Are burning down the disco)
Don't stop the music
One forty-five
(Dancing till our shoes)
Two o'clock
(Tear a crater in the floor)
Don't stop the music
Seven o'clock
(Dancing till our toes)
Eight o'clock
(Are starting a tornado)
Don't stop this sound
(Dancing like no mortal man)
(???)
(Has ever danced before)

Baby I'm a stranger
You're a stranger to me
But we're moving and we're grooving
Baby I'm a stranger
That's in danger of
Falling for you and your grooving
Even though you never said a word
I'm glad you can woo me
With your booty
Baby I'm a stranger
You're a stranger to me
But we're moving and we're grooving

All night long
All night long
All night long
All night long
All night

Eleven o'clock
(Dancing till our feet)
Twelve o'clock
(Are burning down the disco)
Don't stop the music
One forty-five
(Dancing till our shoes)
Two o'clock
(Tear a crater in the floor)
Don't stop the music
Seven o'clock
(Dancing till our toes)
Eight o'clock
(Are starting a tornado)
Don't stop this sound
(Dancing like no mortal man)
(???)
(Has ever danced before)

Eleven o'clock
(Dancing till our feet)
Twelve o'clock
(Are burning down the disco)
Don't stop the music
One forty-five
(Dancing till our shoes)
Two o'clock
(Tear a crater in the floor)
Don't stop the music
Seven o'clock
(Dancing till our toes)
Eight o'clock
(Are starting a tornado)
Don't stop this sound
(Dancing like no mortal man)
(???)
(Has ever danced before)

Do you like this music
We've been making?
Do you like this music
We've been making?
Do you like this music
We've been making?
Do you like this music
We've been making?


-Dance Karate by Paperface

hmm hmm. i was feeling prettty gloomy earlier. i don't believe in gloomy, so i got a triple mochalatte and some lovely cheery company - in the form of Kim Sullivan - and i feel supremely better. my hands are also twitching like crazy. haha i feel so...i don't know. ah, overstimulated. that's the one. i might be posting a poem later, i haven't decided.

research on Willa Cather and a Fitzgerald imitation are lined up for today, so i'm basically thrilled. after that, Don Quixote. (thanks, Chelsea! :D ) and so my day progresses from ehhh to yayyy. i also discovered the Silversun Pickups at Bull Moose earlier. they're incredible, i've decided, and i will scour purevolume for them so i don't have to pay anything for amazing music. i'm such a cheapie. yes, cheapie, you heard me.

the other day, i walked past one of my friends in the halls, and he was looking rather glum, so i sang "turn that frown upside down and smile," acting like the idiot i usually am. i thought nothing of it, really, it's just kind of how i do things. well, turns out, i made him happy for the rest of his day. that made my day, i love making people happy.

nothing further to report. :D

have a super day, whoever's reading this (Liz, i know you are. ahh haha.)

keep it surreal.

-Seth

On Monday, David Halberstam died. That probably does not mean anything to anyone reading this journal, but he wrote the book that I was supposed to test on today. I think that's a tad creepy. It is also sad, since he was a brilliant, compelling, and prolific historian.

In other news, I should be playing in a tennis match today. That could be either incredible or disastrous, depending on the mood of the match. I'm pretty excited nonetheless. :D

Something tragic has occurred. Well, maybe not tragic, but deeply unfortunate. Someone with whom I was getting to know increasingly better, and who provided most of my literary and compelling conversation over the last four weeks is going to be gone for the summer. It's a pity, since I was looking forward to thee chance to become better friends with her.


Alas, life is tragic, beautiful, twisted, flawless, gorgeous, ugly, amazing, and petty. It is my favorite thing, ever.

they said it wasn't bad,
"don't worry, don't be sad"
the doctors said, plastic smiles everywhere.
"you have nothing at all to fear"
the wife slumped in an exhausted slumber,
the daughter send "he's fine" messages to every number
that she could think would care,
now fine he would fare,
and they could breathe again,
give back the insane
notions to the shadows in their minds
because he's doing fine.

that night, a heart attack
tore a bloody crack
in the case for dad's soul,
and a clot collected its fatal toll.
he was dead the next morning,
visitor hour began without warning,
and wife and daughter died
inside their hearts, they cried
until they had nothing left,
then they cried to the cleft
that the departed opened
leaving only tears and gasping choking.

the downside: it's snowing.

the upside: i just saw one of the most adorable little kids i've ever seen.

other than that, i've been writing poetry and slogging through homework.



i got "Paul's Case" for my end-of-year english presentation!!! it made me soo excited, you don't even know.

nothing else to report, over and out.

the beard is gone.


a sequel may ensue, but for the time, a soulpatch is all that remains.

Le nom pour dieu est mere sur les levres et les roeurs de tout enfant

i found this scrawled on a scrap of cardboard in the middle of the sidewalk.

help?

today i feel like riding in a convertable. in the bus, feeling the cool wind on my face, i decided that's what i'd like today.

unfortunately, all available converables are elsewhere. snap.

today, riding the bus, i noticed something incredible. it was so cold out that when the bus that had a temperature of sixty-five degrees or so opened its door, shimmering waves of heat difference occurred. it was fascinating as a mere observation, but it lead to the following thought process: if it gets so cold that it becomes deadly to man simply by having the directness of the sun's rays decreased, if we can perish almost instantly just because the sun is shining less directly on us, imagine if the earth was removed by a mere fraction, either toward the sun or away from it. imagine what it would be like in no sun at all.


hooray for school-buses. (if you spell it busses, it means kisses, fyi)

-S. Strickland

life.

i could attempt to pin life down with a few sweeping generalizations, and hope someone in the future, maybe before i die, recognizes the true genius of my work, and it changes the world.

too bad i live in the real world, huh? there are so many talented writers, so many people with more compelling storylines, deeper characters, broader vision. why did i choose to be a writer. and please, i'm not hunting for compliments or "oh, Seth it's okay, you're good at nearly everything." especially if that was phony. Holden and i have a few shared views on people. but doesn't every Junior in high school have a few shared values? oh, right, everyone does. bummer. how should i stand out? uh, sports? nah, i'm not superb. and superb you must be to succeed in the world of athletics. i'm not musical, either. man, they're getting narrow, my chances of success. oh, i know! i'll be a mathy sciency person! yeah, i'm really good at that! oh, man, wait. i hate it. shoooooottt. oh. got it. i'll be a writer! i love it, and i'm really good at it. cool! except...that won't work, either, since there are ohh...three or four people that i know are better writers than i am, and that's just in my creative writing class. i'm definitely not the smartest person i know, either. not by a long shot.

how can i succeed? hmm. it looks like i'll be a mediocre cardboard-boxer for the rest of my natural life.


bummer.

"...she said, 'maybe there's a bit of me waiting for a bit of you, baby'"

23.

today i saw something awesome and disturbing. awesome, as in inspiring awe.

while walking from the bus to the library, as i walk every day, i saw something on the road. it stood in sharp and distinct contrast to the train of thought i had been enjoying, which was a rather pleasant one. there, on the road, was a separated pair of outstretched bird's wings. they had clearly been forcibly torn off of the bird, as there was flesh and bone at jagged angles from where the wings used to be attached. they were both face-down, at a perfect distance from each other, and completely fanned out, as if the bird were still in flight. in the center of the space between the wings, was the spine of the same bird. only the spine and splinters of ribs, nothing else, but face-up, opposite to the wings.

i found this profoundly distressing, frightening, and harshly macabre.

so i observe, and know not what to think of it...

-S. Strickland

i'm thinking about reviving the use of the relative and demonstrative pronouns in the english language.

who's with me?

i will go with whomever goes with me.


-Seth (president of PRYSMTYK)



it's pronounced "prismtake", just so you know.

today, i got a red carnation from someone. it made my day just a little bit brighter, and the fact that she talked to me made it even better. but, the carnation.

at first, it was a sad little carnation. its stem broke a good three times, and it looked a little weak. i figured it might die if it didn't get water, so, after drinking most of my water, i put my red, slightly wilted carnation in my waterbottle. the funny thing is, if it hadn't broken as many times as it did, it would have never fit in my water bottle. at the moment, it is looking rather healthy and very happy.


it made me pretty happy. :)

i smelled it all through history, and i think it's one of the first time a flower has slipped me some butterflies.

so goeth the day of St. Valentine. there are those who were jilted, and those whose hearts beat a little faster. some romances blossomed, some died, some are starting to fade away.

mine's been growing. :)

Is it me, the person you can't read?
Is it me who can never fall asleep?
Is it me, Mr. Insecurity?
Can I be a happy human being.
Who doesn't think about himself or me?
I'm sick of being Mr. Insecurity!


this doesn't really apply to my life, but i like the lyric.

enjoy. and try to guess the artist, y'all.







(Valentine's was good to Seth)

<3

drama, drama everywhere,
and not a place to think.
drama, drama anywhere
and all their minds did shrink.


why? that seems to be the question of the week. this week has been one of the busiest of the year, yet, and i'm not sure why it all suddenly decided to crash on this one. homework, social drama, it's all chaining my happiness down. friends with stupid boyfriends, a girlfriend who won't talk to me, what is this?

all i need to do is laugh. if i laugh, everything gets better.

i was mean to someone today. like, mean. it was weird, that's not usually how i am...

time to get over myself and these stupid little melodramatic problems. it's only high school.

it's only high school. what a powerful phrase. this is where who i am is shaped, this is where i derive so many memories, store them up, and release them later in life, for everyone's pleasure. high school. it's so vital, and yet so very fake. we all get along so well. or, if you don't like someone, you just don't talk to them. no one forces you to interact with anyone else, you just blow them off. not so in the real world. there, you have to actually deal with the people you dislike, come into close contact with them daily. holy snap. it's gonna be a long life.

i'm planning on enjoying it. anyone want to join? my boat's leaving...


-S. Strickland

happiness has become insfused in my being.



*wednesday*

the end of the school week arrives, and i sadden. i really enjoy the people there, the classes (minus math, and learning in general. i love to write. most everyone knows that about me anyway, but it's really my passion. Creative Writing is possibly my favorite class, and i've only had three periods of it thus far. it's so fun to create, leave a little picture of the moment, and my thoughts, in pencil on some paper. i wrote a scene from a play the other day, and that was amazing. it's fascinating to me that poetry means so much to me as both a thing of beauty and a form of expression, and that it all started in secret. secret poems to a secret crush (who still doesn't know). it's amazing that someone could affect another's life to such an extreme and never know. viva la expression.

the last two days (wednesday and thursday) i had some of the most joyful days in a while. why i'm not quite sure, but they were incredible. both of them also started with two of the most discouraging mornings basically of all time. amazing. then yesterday ended with a sort of hide-and-seek in the halls. hmm. interesting what emotions do to you...

i've been strongly affected by Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer, the lives of Chris McCandless and Everett Ruess. to live on the edge of nature, to be walking the razor of raw beauty, that is to live. one wonders what it's like to almost die, to be so close to death that one can taste it, and then to pull back from the edge and continue to breathe. would society mean anything, really? It is enough that i am surrounded with beauty... how could anyone really survive an anticlimax after that? i understand Everett Ruess (Nemo) perfectly. it seems no one else does. this should rip everyones' souls to standing, and compel them to, without alternative, venture boldly into the wilderness, even for a few weeks on the edge of civilization. it should be a solitary sojourn.

to do this is a dream i must one day achieve.

-S. Strickland