I've writen most of my com 100 exam, gotten dressed, and then ate a lotta crow for Simon. I don't exactly know what "eating a crow" means--but if it means someone throwing crap on me while I ignore it--then it's spot on.Really, my life is meaningless. So I'm a teacher, so what. I want something bigger so I can reach out to many, many, many more people. I know a good college instructor does make a difference, but I don't know if I am in my first class. It's hard to tell.
everything's my fault
who else could it be?
All apologies.
I wish I could be like you,
easily confused.
no i don't have a gun
no i don't have a gun
no i don't have a gun
no i don't have a gun
no i don't have a gun
no i don't have a gun
I would check myself into a hospital if I weren't teaching, and my cat would be well taken care of.
OH! Bill is back in town. I'm happy because I've not spoken, written, or heard from him since 5-6 months ago (maybe longer). I love Vicki and lil' Will. He's moving 40ish miles away to be near his kids' school. He's a good Dad.
In art class, I am deconstructing my by painting over objects and fixing it.
I have an image in my mind for the next one: tape or carefully paint the background and after the background is dry, and then I paint what I didn't paint over. Or it could be done vice versa.
I am a figther. I know it. Shit is still clinging to me. I just need to wash it off. I'm scared to do so.
