No Excuse

Hey.

So it's been a while now, and so naturally a lot of stuff happened, but first off, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I have neglected my blog for a while now. But never fear!

Anyways, I auditioned for the musical (:D) and got... a lead! The musical that we're doing is Miss Saigon. I got the part of the (male) Engineer, a half French, Half Vietnamese "sleazy but likable" villain.

Also, we had to write sonnets in Humanities (I don't want to post 2 poems in one post,) but we are working on Sestinas, so here's my half finished version of one (OK, maybe it sucks, but bear with me here.)

I can not, will not, get up, no matter how much heart;

My eyes are boulders, heavy as rock – what a metaphor.

My dreams are, however, light as a feather.

I shrug my covers back on, showering me in a sea of maroon.

However, I and my mother both know that the smell is the key;

The smell of yellow eggs, blueberries, that surely will stain.

I see my dad walk into my room, see apron patched with stains.

I appreciate how he gives everything so much heart.

But today I am closing the lock. I am too tired to deal with such fancies as keys.

There it is again – another metaphor.

Beneath my covers, I glance upwards. I have always hated that color, maroon;

But I have always liked the idea of the filling of feathers.

Sleep flutters, scattered, blurring my vision with it’s milky feathers,

Almost like a blemish on my previous perfect vision – a stain.

I remember my old dream, something about forgotten keys…

Huh. Forgotten. That’s what my dream is now. I settle down into my sea of maroon.

Alas – what should I do? My mind tells me to wake up, yet saving the shattered 

      remnants of my dreams is the decision of my heart.

Yet this time there is no is – no clear possibility, no metaphor.

Only a lock and an unwanted key.

And I just made something really uneventful (waking up in the morning) incredibly dramatic.

Well hey, that's poetry for you... huh? Yay? No? OK.

So, anyways...

Elektra Out.