Again.

Dancing out on Seventh Street

Sunday, April 18, 2010, 3:26 PM

"Meet me by the lamp post this Saturday midnight. I'll be wearing black like the sky, with lips as red as the roses and eyes as piercing as the knife hidden in my coat. And then I'll kiss you goodnight and when you close your eyes you'll think of me. The thought of me will be your last. I'll kiss you goodnight again and leave you to lay by the lamp post on a Saturday midnight."
... I don't know whether to laugh or cry, really. The paragraph is wonderfully sadistic but apart from that. Anyway, found it on Ermy's blog ^o)
Backache backache and I still have to do so much A Math. I should go to my table now. Really. Speech Day decorations were gross and I spent my whole week on Guides. Which wouldn't be great under any circumstances but the fact that MYEs are coming makes is worse.
And yes, Ali, I did notice you hitting me with your stupid cloth >( You'd better pray that the cloth was clean, you idiot, or I shall find a way to make you laugh while you're doing footdrills HAHAH. And that emoticon is a bloody strawberry with mutated leaves I tell you. Or else you killed someone with it and now the leaves are smeared with blood. I hope Ming En was your victim if that really is the case.
... I'm hungry.

As the rain pours

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More of me on my Tumblr (L)

A Whiting and A Snail-Lewis Carroll
‘Will you walk a little faster?’ said a whiting to a snail.
‘There’s a porpoise close behind us, and he’s treading on my tail.
See how eagerly the lobsters and the turtles all advance!
They are waiting on the shingle - will you come and join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?

‘You can really have no notion how delightful it will be
When they take us up and throw us, with the lobsters, out to sea!’
But the snail replied ‘Too far, too far!’ and gave a look askance -
Said he thanked the whiting kindly, but he would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, would not join the dance.
Would not, could not, would not, could not, could not join the dance.

‘What matters it how far we go?’ his scaly friend replied.
‘There is another shore, you know, upon the other side.
The further off from England the nearer is to France -
Then turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance.
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, will you join the dance?
Will you, won’t you, will you, won’t you, won’t you join the dance?’

Dancing out on Seventh Street

Sunday, April 18, 2010, 3:26 PM