the remote part of your heart

Very little has happened today. Today never really got started, but then that’s how Thursdays go. I had an enjoyable few minutes at 8:25, then a relaxing hour+half with my back to a radiator in the library due to Pollock’s Latin being cancelled, and a fairly pleasant 4-5:15, though I think 5:15-6 was moreso. Still haven’t shaken the feeling that I’m the only alto who sings.

Actually I was fairly sorry Latin was cancelled.

Skived general studies. I am such a rebel. Today I felt more than ever that it was pointless, and that I hadn’t done the work for it, and that I have an interview on Monday. Those things combined were a pretty nice reason.

I have a lot to do over the weekend. But maybe we’ll get to play poker again. Chris picked up the rules enviably quickly on Sunday.

Have had Idlewild’s Scottish Fiction on repeat all night. It has a feeling to it.

neoptolemus, priam… astyanax.

I love all my Tacitus notes. They are so neat and lovely.

I had a horrible dream last night. The worst in a while. If I ever need to commit suicide it will certainly not be by jumping off a tall building, because it’s scary and painful.

Today has been ever so quiet. By a happy coincidence I got to spend a free with Beka, but besides that and the music lesson I’ve been by myself. But Beka took me to the shopwithmasks at lunch (hurrah) and then we spent a while gazing with awe at bits of pretty jewellery. The only other conversation I really had at school was with Joe while we were waiting for lifts after choir. How sad.

Dom has his practice interview with Miss O’Connor and… Mr Tomblin. pwned!

Torchwood soon enough. <3 I keep thinking Chris is going to get raped or mugged (phrase credit to Ev’s mother) while walking up, but it hasn’t happened yet. Fortunate.

Tacitus.

that you run and never tire…

So, Lostprophets. Twas good. Can’t express really. We missed the first support, as on the way there I turned into a moron and we had to turn round and go back to Cropston. Yeah. But, we got there in time to see some of the second support band. I have no idea who they are; I thought it was The New 1920 at the time, but now I’m listening to them on their myspace and I can’t believe they’re the same band. I know people sound different playing live and all, but playing live these guys had no lyrics except for “WRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAARGH!”

But they did get a wall of death going, which was fun.

And yeah. I have never been pressed up against so many sweaty people in my life. Pretty awesome really. We didn’t get all the way to the front because of two men who were like, twice my height and twice Nhoj’s width. Well, not quite. But they were both very sweaty. But we had a pretty good view from where we were anyway.

This morning was a sleepy blur. I woke up enough (finally) on receiving a certain text, and on being told that tomorrow I will have a double alone with Mrs Kent as well as a double alone with Mr Bunting. Ahahahaha. What fun I shall have.

Ryan Adams – Desire

Another lovely, gentle song. I think it was on House, last series-ish.

Had an email back from Suuz/’Zan’/’Sujannah’. She says I’ve inadvertently answered all the questions she’d just asked in a letter she’s sent me. I love her so much. I miss her. Had one back from Jonny too, he says he’s getting on well.

Finished Perks. It’s a beautiful book.

Tonight I just feel so lucky, and I think I mean that truthfully. I haven’t been able to say it quite as truthfully for a long time. I hope that all the people I have to thank for it know who they are. Nobody ever says these things enough.

P: Christmas play-together is Saturday 16th. Are you back? (Also, Mum has asked again about whether you’ll be CBYSOing. She doesn’t know whether she’ll be able to fill a coach or not, and needs to know by end of this week. So anything you can do to find out if you’re free.)

Ev: are you free (+ in Cambridge) next Monday?

You have to be fucking kidding.

‘plural hits in the solar plexus.’

“I went to bed feeling a bit strange, like i needed to be sick, but couldnt, The next morning I woke up feeling much the same but it quickly transpired that today I could, and I proceeded to spend the remainder of the morning doing so.”

Ahahahah. What could that be but another catchup email from Susannah? I’d email her back with what’s been going on here, but compared to what she’s been doing I don’t think much has. But I probably will anyway.

Mum’ll be back from her retreat thing this afternoon, which is nice. I’m getting slowly closer to Dad, but she’s still the one I go to talk about anything with. But Dad finished his Nanowrimo last night, and got his certificate. I’m impressed.

Today looks like it’ll be homework this afternoon, as I did none yesterday, and Lost/whatever else we find to entertain us this evening. I like days like this.

think for a moment that

sperasne? cogito te fuisse aeternum.

“Shaken or stirred?” “Do I look like I give a damn?”

Mmm. Just cooked myself a tea of noodles, bacon and stir-fry carrots.

And the chocolate cake I made with Sam this afternoon has come out far better than expected. The filling was a mixture of ricotta and honey, which I thought was strange but figured it might go like mascarpone and black treacle, where they end up tasting all butterscotchy and not at all like mascarpone and treacle mixed together. With this one, I mixed the ricotta and honey together and… it tasted like ricotta and honey mixed together. But somehow it works with the chocolate.

I’ve started listening to my Lostprophets music again, as I wanted to get to know them a bit better before Monday. Working through LT at the moment, and I’m finding that… ‘feeling’… exists in tracks besides just Last Train Home and Rooftops. They have something that makes them more than just rock music that’s slightly heavier than what I normally listen to. I’m not sure what.

In the car this afternoon, I felt very peaceful. And safe. Looking down into the valley with all of Loughborough lit up and scattered around, and looking up to the stars. ‘Everything looks perfect from far away…’

“may all your bus wheels turn square.”

I’m overwhelmed by a lot of new poems I’ve just been reading.

Aga Shahid Ali – Stationary

J. Allyn Rosser – Equitable Distribution

Yehuda Amichai – In Front of the Concrete Wall

Archibald Macleish – Ars Poetica

Robert Mezey – In the Soul Hour

All are so very lovely. I read one for the first time late last night, and ended up writing many lyricsy ideas again – admittedly with a lot of stolen thoughts. But I will likely show them to no-one but Chris for ages, so by the time any of you might see them you’ll probably have forgotten that all the stunning imagery was not my own.

Perks of Being a Wallflower was waiting for me at library today. <3 It is lovely to read. It’s first-person epistolary, and the main character (Charlie) says things so simply and directly that there’s a humour and a poignancy in the sheer trueness of what he’s saying. Some of it is so beautiful. It won’t last me long at this rate.

Sarah made an amusingly blunt comment to Chris this morning. Tempted to bring it up after we ended up walking to LHS together, but she would probably have flustered my argument with her beams of logic. I think those run in the family.

No band practice tonight, so I filched a lift home to avoid the schoolbus and a lonely walk in the dark, and I am now off to prepare a tea of Chinese for me and pizza for Sam. Then I will do nothing all evening. <3

in Anglinam.

I have a distinct lack of things to say.

Chris’s hair was even more impressively fuzzy than usual today.

Latin was fun, but only because we got to chat lots. Dom has a Bristol offer, but he couldn’t be too smug about it because he hasn’t yet got an Oxford interview.

Matt in the flat with the hat invited me round this evening, but as I’m off church choir pleading sickyness I thought it would be a bit dodgy to go out somewhere else.

Ferg’s ‘PHEEEW’ in choir warmup today was the stuff of genius.

Have an interview with Mr Fisher on Monday. Ho ho ho.

Gregory Orr – Father’s Song

the same old rain

Parents evening was nice. Part of the fun is getting to see everyone else’s parents, because I think I’ve never encountered any of them save for Beka’s and Lou’s. And it’s always interesting to see whether teachers act any differently.

We did some work in music, but it was mostly taken up by PJ’s hypothetical rant about how rude it would be for anyone to skive his lessons for other things, particularly if those things were not even A2 subjects, for example, Cheese Club, and they didn’t, say, apologise afterwards, save, say, an email, which would be an inappropriately impersonal way of doing it. And that this would be particularly bad if the email didn’t even sound sincere.

Ahah. Visited redhouse for the first time in months, and played Go for the first time since the tournament (possibly). Perhaps we’ll manage it more regularly if percussion ensemble carries on this trend of nonexistence.

*wordlessness*

I don’t want anything. But I need something.

Masquerade ball. orly?