My · Journal

Had I patience and wit enough to pen
A poem worthy of my friends' inspection,
Had I the inclination, I should then
With humour, charm, succinctness, and reflection
Proceed to dazzle, entertain and awe them
With conceits, dramatic voices, or some such.
(Perhaps a catalogue to gain momentum.)
Though I suppose it wouldn't matter much;
For now the year is over, and we part
Vowing to stay in contact, but we know
That after this we could well drift apart,
Although the dislocation would be slow.
So, to the great all-powerful God of Rhyme,
I offer this: my own small sacrifice,
My pound of flesh, so that with passing time
Our friendship will stay strong. To be concise
(And steal from Will): so long as eyes can see,
So long lives this - a friendship guarantee.

So we have reached it at last, the eternal subjunctive, to which reality is merely the necessary coefficient. Or rather, I have reached it, paradoxically. Tautologically.
You are the ultimate me of me.

From here I see two mirrors held to one another, reflecting endlessly in a shimmering arc of possibility. Languishing between them, I am.
Which is where I belong. After all, it was I who created them.
Not you.

A sonnet, perhaps. One bright moment, one state of mind, reduced to fourteen lines. Distilled. Crystallised. Fossilized. To be prattled off upon request, as required.

Unloveable? Perhaps. Unloved? Probable. Unless...? Predictable.
All responses to be recited upon request, as required.

So if you really love me, say yes; but if you don't dear, confess;

but please don't tell me...

perhaps

perhaps

perhaps.


Do I want to find the answer?
I think the answer is - no.

Today merits an entry because it was very pleasant, and I did some things I haven't done before, like eat jam tarts for breakfast. It was actually the nicest, most relaxing day I've had in ages. Definitely not boring. But I did learn that I'd make a crap teacher, because apparently I make people feel stupid even when they are intelligent and write good poems. I don't want to be a teacher though so it's all good. I'll just make it up to whoever's confidence I've utterly destroyed by complimenting them for a while. They deserve it because their poem was brilliant :)

I am a bit confused at the moment. Not about anything in particular, just about myself. A general confusion. Befuddlement is perhaps a better word. Or perhaps, upon reflection, a stupid pointless word that should never have been created. What an enigma. Damn, why do I always think of good hangman words too late? Enigma, befuddlement - it's enough to send me into histrionics. Ok now I'm just being silly.

Ways to kill superman without using kryptonite #307: Trick him into thinking whats-her-name needs a heart transplant and only his heart will fix her, so that he sticks his hand down his throat and rips out his own heart to give to her. Or brain, or any other necessary internal organ. And then they would both die. Oh, the irony.

I wish someone cared enough about me to write me a song, or a poem, or something they wouldn't do for anyone else. I wish I could fly, because that would be cool. I wish solos were over. I wish to go to Venice. I wish I had a magic wishing chair. I wish I knew why words look funny when you write the same one over and over. I wish I wish I wish... I wish for a really awesome present for my eighteenth. I wish the person I am angry with knew I was angry with them so they could fix the thing that they're doing that's making me angry, because I know they don't mean it. I wish I believed in god so I could pray. I wish I lived at JC Westend costumes, so I could spend my life playing dressups. I wish the thing in the corner of my screen telling me to click the 'restart now' button would go away. I wish I didn't have a vague feeling that I'm readdicting myself to livejournal. I wish someone wanted to know everything there is to know about me. I wish I could meet emma thompson and tell her she is brilliant. And possibly in a few minutes I will wish I hadn't exposed a list of my wishes for the general public to see. As if anyone will read it.
And that is a list of Julia's wishes.

My life is so boring. I have nothing to write about. Hmmm... Nope, nothing. Boring boring me.
I have been very stressed and upset recently for no apparent reason. I think I'm better now though. It started with one crappy drama lesson, and then I had to go and see ms cook and talk about how crap I am at improvisation, which did marvellous things for my self esteem. It's calla's birthday tomorrow. I can't wait to be eighteen.
No, my life is actually incredibly uneventful. I learnt a new word the other day though - echt. Isn't it brilliant? It means real or genuine. And I remembered one I learnt ages ago: chthonic. Having deep roots which determine one's behaviour. I just like it because there are so many different ways it could be pronounced.
We've used up all our internet allowance for this month, so I'm back to dial up speed. It's painfully slow. "a mutual commitment to democracy" is what Taiwan and the US have, thanks to US soft power. Yay, sac on friday. J'ai eu un sac de francais aujourd'hui, qui s'est passe bien, j'espere. C'est difficile d'ecriver en francais sans les accents.
I am very tired. Chronically sleep-deprived, I think.
19 days til solos. shiiiiiiiit.