The Band Bus

High School is challenging, of course, but there are a few light moments. Arend gets us into discussions about how we'll die and then assigns us projects that probably will kill us. Yesterday, my health teacher, Paco, taught us how to make a Molotov Coctail (gasoline, cloth, a jar and WALA! You've got yourself a party!). Tele, a teacher that I have not yet had the good fortune of having, routinely puts kids in trash cans. Quarles makes us listen to a hippie song about cells and Wilson teaches us how to tinkle.

Those reading this blog have noticed that I've been fairly depressed lately. I know, it's been getting annoying. Hell, it was even annoying me! But for some reason, I've got a change of heart. I don't know why. It just happened. So, now I find beauty in everything, which you all will grow equally annoyed of.

A damper was put on my joy, however, on Wednesday. Lost, a show which I have worshipped since the first crypic polar bear, returned from a 3 week hiatus. During those 3 weeks, I was on the verge of pulling out my hair. Last week's new episode was promised to rock da house, and indeed it did. I'm a teenage girl, so my needs are simple. All I need to be satisfied is humor, a furry creature, and a shirtless hot guy. All of the criteria was met. Damn, that Sayid is FINE!

All was going good until Walt popped up (the second time in the episode, not the first), showing himself to both Shannon and Sayid. And then there was the freaky whispers that are super hard to understand. Those evil whispers caused the Tailies to panic and Walt caused Shannon to panic (Sayid's still wondering WTF?) and then BOOM! Shannon down. And who was holding the gun? None other than the least likable person on the show: Ana-Lucia! Somebody kill that bitch, because I've had it! So, now I'm left wondering what Sayid's gonna do about all of this (just a few minutes before Shannon's death, he told her he loved her), but, of course, we won't until 2 weeks from now. Next week, it's all about the tail section, a story which, under any other circumstances, I'd be delighted to see. So, ya, there's my wonderful Wednesday gone horribly, horribly wrong.

This song seems to be posted on nearly every single blog ever made, and for good reason. No matter what mood you're in, it seems to reflect everything that you were feeling. So, without much further adeu, I give to you...

IRIS

And I'd give up forever to touch you
'Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now

And all I can taste is this moment
And all I can breathe is your life
'Cause sooner or later it's over
I just don't want to miss you tonight

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming
Or the moment of truth in your lies
When everything feels like the movies
Yeah you bleed just to know you're alive

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

And I don't want the world to see me
'Cause I don't think that they'd understand
When everything's made to be broken
I just want you to know who I am

I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am
I just want you to know who I am

It's been 2 years now since I first got sick but it seems the wounds are still there, open and raw and fresh. Could it be that my depression never really left? I try and block the darkest moments of my life out but they always seem to resurface with the same pain they had when I first received them. It's been said that time heals all wounds, but whoever said that clearly had no knowledge on the subject. Some hurts just go too deep. In sixth grade, I lost more then just a bone and some hair. I lost the old me. The Me that was happy, carefree, and full of life. Occationally, I receive glimpses of the happy past but they are now foreign to me. How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on when, in your heart, you know there is no going back? I look at my friends, at my peers, but the warmth and connection I had with them has vanished, and now a wall divides us. They can't share my pain because they have never felt it. Two broken rocks can lean on eachother and make eachother whole, but a single rock will just keep falling. Lately, much of the pain I've felt is felt by my friends, and by talking to them it gets taken away. But who do I talk to for this? I know I shouldn't feel this way, but I'm embarassed that I'm separated like this. So, the hardest part's over; I've finally admitted it. Now what?

I have no idea how we got to this topic, but today in English, Sam, Bre, and I touched on the topic of the universe. I've thought long and hard about this and have come to one simple conclusion: Since there's infinite space, everything's happening somewhere. It's hard to imagine but it's true. Some people, though, (like Sam and Bre) disagree.

Sam, one of the smartest people in our class, pretty much said that my theory is impossible. Psh, impossible? Improbable, yes, but nothing's impossible. He said, and I quote, "There may be infinite space, but we're alone."

WTF is that? Sure, our mere existance is pure dumb luck, but who's to say some other planet wasn't just as lucky? In the universe, there's gazillions of galaxies, and in those galaxies, there's millions of stars, and many of those stars have their own system of planets, so how can someone deny the existance of other life when there are so many possibilities that it can happen?