it’s not overrated

7:33 pm on Thursday, May 15th, 2003

I got attacked by an enraged Frenchman in a wheelchair today. Let no one say the French are incurable pacifists.

I don’t understand people who look back to their childhood and go all nostalgic. Possibly their faulty memory is a side-effect of their arthritis, but I recall my elementary school career as the worst years of my life to date (not terribly impressive). Little kids are cruel. They haven’t acquired civilization by osmosis yet. I’m really loving the teen years, though. I’m young, and I can make mistakes. I’ll shed my skin when I go to college, and again four years later. I find that to be the most comforting when I screw up — that people won’t remember for as long as I will, anyway.

Independent Study Project (due today) is about 10% done. My topics have been varied: Japan, programming a card game, Tarot, Communism, the mass media, and now foreign policy.

I’ve got to learn how to write. I don’t write poetry for inspiration, but rather for the sake of writing poetry. My occasional lumps of prose (few and far between) are awkward and never good enough. Practice makes perfect, but I can’t stand to practice. Theoretically this journal should polish my style, but I think writing for an audience makes me sound forced. Bah!

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