English. English English. More English... English... and a joke.

(That title in itself is a joke... if you ever get a chance to listen to the demo tapes for Aladdin (they sell Disney CDs with real/demo songs), that's how the demo for "Arabian Nights" sounds. With the music. It's funny. Maybe I'll make an MP3, upload it. But basically it's Alan Menken (I think, anyway), saying, "Dialogue! Dialogue dialogue! More dialogue! Dialogue! ...and a joke."

But yeah. For the next two weeks, my life is English. 4 periods of English class a day. Poetry. Hamlet (again - I had it in both classes ^^;). Cat's Eye by Margaret Atwood (hate kill maim). Journals. x_____x

There's something to rant about. Margaret Atwood. Maybe it's just me; maybe I'm too young to comprehend; maybe I'm just not girly enough or something, but I really cannot comprehend why Margaret Atwood is an award-winning novelist. I find her writing so... banal, really, pointless. Where's the conflict? And don't tell me it's internal - Hamlet, THAT's internal conflict. 'course, it's also external, but. Really. It makes no sense.

This poetry assignment I have really sucks too. I have to find 1) a/some theme(s) that are within ALL of BNW, Hamlet, and Ragtime (with Siddhartha and Demian thrown in if I want bonus marks). But... really... There aren't many. Revolution, MAYBE. Maybe maybe, and that's a stretch. Lost love, maybe. Internal conflict, maybe. But... so stuuuupid. And then, 2) I have to find poems with these themes, doing a brief analysis of three of them and a detailed one one one. Argh.

I saw a really cool poem today though. I can't put it up here (formatting is an issue), but I may put it on my webpage eventually.

One day left. *sigh* Soooooo not following through. More promises shattered like glass.

Just looking at the comments...

For some of my posts. Now, I don't mind anonymity, but something one person said really kind of hit home. Some points were true, some were not, but I'm kind of curious as to the identity of my hidden theorist...

Anyway, in a semi-answer, yeah, in a way, I do like being a hypocrite and I do like being nasty. It means I get to create harsh rules that I don't follow. But I look back and I feel remorse, sorrow for it... And I don't think I've ever taken pleasure in hating myself. I want to change how I am. But change takes courage and determination, things that self-hatred tends to drain from you. It's like... someone (can't remember who - I think perhaps Groucho Marx) said... "Quitting smoking's easy. I've done it thousands of times."

Change is hard. Change hurts. Someday, I will grow beyond it. I certainly hope I don't rest at this adolescent pity-fest for my entire life. That would, in short, suck.

Hmm. There may be a post later tonight...