i should be studying algebra two, but nah..
Last night, in the wee hours of the night (12:00, because i'm tough like that) i read "Daddy" by Sylvia Plath. talk about intense, eh? i highly recommend reading it once and daring in the thought.
does she hate her father?
does she love her father?
why compare him to this cult of people?
could we today, ever understand this feeling? in this little world where no ones starves, troubles are coaxed through by therapist, community, friends, and teachers.
will our poetry suffer? will the melodramatic themes go away, replaced with what we call quote unquotes problems.
oh no, what college am i going to attend? oh no, what is my major going to be? oh, i'm 13 and haven't had my first kiss. am i a werido?
*in background someone scream digression*
i'm sorry my dears, i would continue on but.
my soundtrack is over, and there is nothing more for me to say.
think about it though, next time your life seems tough; you could have killed your father. you could have killed two.
ach du, daddy daddy, i'm through.