to sleep, perchance to dream
May. 12th, 2006 08:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elvenpirateladyMacbeth references abound in this post. Warned, you have been.
Gah. I'm tired. I always seem to be tired nowadays. Musical, anyone? 'Cause right now I'm really sick of it. The performing buzz is not overriding my tiredness. And then it just goes on. And on. And ON. I'll be homicidal by the end of term.
If I'm not already.
Drifty drifty sleepy. Real coherent, that is. Musical would be better with sockpuppets. I've got mine ready and waiting. How are you today, Mr Snippy? Well, that's good. I'm glad you're feeling better than I am right now. What are we going to do today? We're going to make a kite? How exciting!
Hell, it works.
World Lit is stab stabby murder. Like maths. Except I don't have maths classes, I have current affairs debates with maths formulas on the board. I liked maths. Physics should be good soon after the departure of A Certain Teacher. Even if I did find the Quark Dance (from last post) through one of her worksheets. Eh, I say. You need nerds to teach physics. You need nerds to teach all subjects except PE. And then you've got sports nerds. I kill the twelve week term. I ramble. I dream. I drift. I talk in sentence fragments.
Thane of Cawdor shall sleep no more? No, Year 12 IBbers will sleep no more. Is this the exam I see before me, the pen turned towards my hand? Or art thou an exam of the mind? Fair is foul and foul is fair, but work is work is work. Except my art work, which is red like blood and autumn leaves. Red blood that I withold. I don't like the idea of donating. If they want my blood they can have it when I next cut my hand or something. Which won't be too long. (No, not emo. Clumsy.)
Is it strange that when I try to think, the boyfriend music in my head plays and stops me thinking? Performances again - and again, and again - at least Southwood understood most of the jokes. Seven in all - lucky seven, eh? And yet thursday's not half-filled yet, not top-hold with direst cruelty at least. And I drift and I drift until dreams are far away, and there's only sleep.
Goodnight, waking world.
Gah. I'm tired. I always seem to be tired nowadays. Musical, anyone? 'Cause right now I'm really sick of it. The performing buzz is not overriding my tiredness. And then it just goes on. And on. And ON. I'll be homicidal by the end of term.
Drifty drifty sleepy. Real coherent, that is. Musical would be better with sockpuppets. I've got mine ready and waiting. How are you today, Mr Snippy? Well, that's good. I'm glad you're feeling better than I am right now. What are we going to do today? We're going to make a kite? How exciting!
Hell, it works.
World Lit is stab stabby murder. Like maths. Except I don't have maths classes, I have current affairs debates with maths formulas on the board. I liked maths. Physics should be good soon after the departure of A Certain Teacher. Even if I did find the Quark Dance (from last post) through one of her worksheets. Eh, I say. You need nerds to teach physics. You need nerds to teach all subjects except PE. And then you've got sports nerds. I kill the twelve week term. I ramble. I dream. I drift. I talk in sentence fragments.
Thane of Cawdor shall sleep no more? No, Year 12 IBbers will sleep no more. Is this the exam I see before me, the pen turned towards my hand? Or art thou an exam of the mind? Fair is foul and foul is fair, but work is work is work. Except my art work, which is red like blood and autumn leaves. Red blood that I withold. I don't like the idea of donating. If they want my blood they can have it when I next cut my hand or something. Which won't be too long. (No, not emo. Clumsy.)
Is it strange that when I try to think, the boyfriend music in my head plays and stops me thinking? Performances again - and again, and again - at least Southwood understood most of the jokes. Seven in all - lucky seven, eh? And yet thursday's not half-filled yet, not top-hold with direst cruelty at least. And I drift and I drift until dreams are far away, and there's only sleep.
Goodnight, waking world.
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no subject
Date: 2006-05-12 11:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-13 10:39 am (UTC)The quark dance I hold close to my heart.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-13 02:44 am (UTC)Oh El, you crack me up. Don't worry, you'll survive.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-13 10:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-13 12:46 pm (UTC)