The Rulebook.

At some point in time
you have to play by the rules
of the game. No one
will ever tell you this but me.

If you fall for him, you're losing
If he falls for you, you've won.
If he's got a girlfriend, lose ten points.
If he dumps his girlfriend for you, gain twenty.
If you think that's shallow, only gain five.

If you kiss him you're winning
If he kisses back, you've won.
The object of the game is "I love you."
I think.
I didn't make these rules.

...I'm not even a part of the game.

I think I'll post some impromptu haikus.

Because I am waiting for my friend to finish the STUPID SCHOOL NEWSPAPER!!!
(jk) (uh oh she's making threats...)

You may want to check
Your avatar, Kara-Lynne.
You may just want to.

Newspaper headlines:
Lacrosse team finally gains
WPIAL stature.

Thousands of pictures
Ripped pages from magazines
Posted on the wall.

These are all boring.
One day I'll write a good one
Potential haikus.

"Check your avatar-
If you really like your life."
She knows I don't care.

"Check your avatar."
She's fixing a paragraph.
"Can you just do it?"

Pretty red and white
Stripes spell out H-E-L-P.
So what could it mean?




I suck at haikus.


This post is a waste of space.

Robot Singer

She sings with words and feelings
With "love" and "hate" and "joy"
She sings with tears in her eyes
And lyrics like honey
And a heart leaping from her chest

I sing with sounds and rhythms
With "voice" and "melody" and "harmony"
I sing with tears in my eyes
And lyrics like corpses
And an echoing chasm in my chest.

Some beautiful poetry

http://www.adab.com/en/modules.php?name=Sh3er&doWhat=lsq&shid=2&start=0

I read "A Brief Love Letter" "Love Compared" "On Entering the Sea" and "Jerusalem" and have decided that this is my favorite poet.

A feeling I can't shake.

From every waking moment
I feel my empty bed.
I can see the meals cooked for one
and have only known dates with friends.

I sing love songs to music, to
foreign, indifferent ears.
My "you" is never you, and
my love is never returned.

I don't even know who you are.
How can my lips long for a kiss
that they have never felt,
and my eyes await your invisible face?

Your touch is every man I've ever known
and every kiss I've never felt.
I know you in my dreams,
but have we ever met?

You are my first true love,
and I don't even know who you are.
My "you" is never you,
but have we ever met?

Where is my melody?

My song left by plane.
My inspiration ripped from my grasp overnight,
The words stuffed carelessly in a carry-on
And snacked on occasionally,
While my poem soared over the Atlantic.
Every love song in the luggage haul,
Every soft melody smashed together
With other writers' lovers,
And other singers' supports,
And other wives' husbands.

We're so sorry Uncle Albert, but we haven't done a bloody thing all day!

This is the epitomy of boredom, shared between 90 minutes in Algebra-2 and French-1 and 5 hours in a movie theatre behind a concession counter without my knitting needles (hah!). The top showcases my partially illustrated lyrics of The Beatles' "Helter Skelter" (the arrows illsutrate the words like "bottom" "top" "stop" and "ride"). We've got an LSD eyeball (note - "The girl with kaleidescope eyes") that would have been better if i had had a red pen and a black pen... i had a blue pen and an marker, so i had to do my best... it was supposed to be bloodshot. ::grrr:: My friend added some of his own lyrics on the side... this was done on the back of a math worksheet, so some doodled division problems are scratched out, as you'll see.... um, my characteristic exploding heart... the illustrated lyrics to "Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey"...

I used this paper to let off steam. Beatles style.