The Band Bus

It's been a while, eh? A lot has been happening, and I just need to put it out somewhere.

Dear Mayor Adams,

Talk about a shitty week for you. I've been hearing a lot of talk about you resigning, and I'm here to say don't do it. If it goes to anything, let it go to a recall election later this summer. Legally, I believe you did nothing wrong, so you shouldn't have to lose your job over this issue.

Mr. Breedlove was 18 at the time your relationship became sexual, as both you and he have stated, along with third parties. Also, as you and others have mentioned, it was Breedlove that initiated the relationship in the first place. While I do find it rather...ewwy that you had a relationship with someone that was over half your age, I don't have the right to judge. It was consensual and legal. Many criticize the fact that you lied about it, but I believe that we should let he without sin cast the first stone. Everyone has lied, and I'm sure a majority of people have, at one time or another, lied about their sexual relationships. It's only human.

There is simply too much to be done in this city to waste time over a ridiculous issue like this. You plan to do so many positive things for this city and I hate to see it all go to waste because of what should be a non-issue. Schools are desperate for funding, our infrastructure is falling apart, and joblessness is reaching new heights. Portlanders elected you with an overwhelming majority because they believed -- and hopefully still believe -- that you are capable of handling these issues.

Voters put you into office, so if you must leave, let voters take you out. In the mean time, don't let this issue distract you from what you were elected to do: govern Portland.

Sincerely,
Sarah

Yes, I know some, and yes, they're good people. But fuck 'em.

I've had it! Someone, please, for the love of god, tell me why an intelligent person would be a republican? Name one, ONE republican president in the last fifty years that didn't a) damage our economy, b) essentially spit on civil liberties, and c) made things just generally worse. There is no logical reason to be a republican. I've thought long and hard about this, so now I'm watching the Republican National Convention. (I'm a firm believer that everyone should watch both sides of the debate).

So, here I am, watching it (Giuliani, actually), and... I'm more confused. These people are idiots! Drilling isn't going to help! We need alternative energy! Don't chant, people! It's stupid! No! Stop it! This would be funny if it weren't so scary. Now they're booing! Why are you booing? He just said something about Barack's policies THAT MADE TOTAL SENSE! It was logical, showed deep thought, AND THE REPUBLICANS BOOED!

You're the party of freedom? YOU'RE the party of freedom?! With the exception of the slave thing, you've done nothing but limit freedoms! What. The. Hell.

I...I can't watch this any more. My blood pressure's scaring me. I remember why I love this country after the Democratic National Convention, and now I just realized why I hate it so much. Because people like this VOTE.

Back to my first request, however... Please, someone, explain to me why people are republicans. There's got to be some logical reason I'm missing here.

Well, first, I just want to say, it's not that I don't care. It's just that, I'm not sure how to talk about that sort of thing. I'm here for you, even if maybe it doesn't seem like I am.

The song's called Long Away (by a little band I rarely speak of ever. You probably haven't even heard of them... Queen? Yeah, never heard of them? Figures...), and given the sparseness of lyrics on this blog, I hope you read them. They say what I want to say, only prettier, and with a lovely guitar part.

***Before I get into it, the "it" deserves to be properly explained. Writing is really theraputic. The other night was really crappy for me, so I picked up my pencil and wrote. I had to think for the first few lines, but then it became almost subconscious. Reading back over it, I had to say a few times, "Woah, I have no recollection of writing that." So, it's not really written well, really. It's written with emotion. I felt loads better after doing it (actually, that's a lie, I felt worse, but feeling worse in turn made me feel better... Get it?). It's a bit long, and if you're not inclined to read it all, the last six paragraphs are really what matter. ***

I need to write. Otherwise, I think I might explode. Where to start? Heavens. I don't know. I feel again. That's nice. Granted, "feeling" means feeling incurable depressed, but it works. It's a fulfilling sadness, if there is such a thing.

I'm have a hard time coming to term with my mediocrity. My claim that I'm not smart is going to ratify itself very soon here. I'm going to get a B in physics. Of that, no doubt exists in my mind. I think it'll be relaxing, in a sense. Once perfection is shattered, I'll be fine. I'll be normal. It's not like NAU or wherever I choose to go is going to care. One B isn't much. My ACT and SAT test scores will help me out.

I'm battling. Really, I"m just rying to write to keep myself busy. Maybe eventually something meaningful will come out.

I'm a shell. I'm not what a human should be. I'm going nowhere. If I had never existed, it wouldn't change anything.

That's bullshit. Of course I mean something. My parents, my friends, my pets. They need me.

My mind's a fortress. It's faulty, though. It's formidable in fair times, but shatters when things go ill. I'm readying for a fight that will never come, making talking points for an argument I'll never have.

Fucking physics! I wasn't ready. I don't want the mirror held up to me just yet. Why do I have to be so horrible at something I love? I'm going to get a 2 on the test, I know it. I"m not smart. I'm just a shell that excretes information when called upon. I'm nothing.

Why can't I just be like everyone else? I'm sick of me. I'm tired of telling myself to take comfort in my own company. I talk too much about myself, but that's because so few ask, and there's so much I want people to know. I don't want to be a wisp anymore. I don't know what to do, though. It's all I've known. Give me a personality, give me strength, give me confidence. Just give me the building blocks of a normal person.

Give me someone to hold, someone to confide my secrets to. Friends, friends, friends, that's all there is. That's all I need, I tell myself. If that's all I need, then why is everyone else scraping and pleading for more? I'm still a child. I need to grow up. I need to be normal.

I need to cry and scream and laugh. Instead, I go through a daily pattern of pleasantness. It's a straight road. I don't want that road, damn it. I want hills! Great hills! Sweeping valleys! My spectrum varies in little shades, but I want to know what it's like to have the whole spectrum.

I can't do this, i can't do this, I can't do this. I'm alone in the dark, and I don't know what to do next. I hear you, you say you're there, too, but I can't find you. You know this place, but it wasn't this dark before.

I need someone to care. Why don't they see the one that's pleasant all the time? Do I have to be a bitch and throw a tantrum to be seen anymore? I want to reach out and love, but there's no one there to love back. I'm not sure if I can do this anymore.

Seventeen soon and never been kissed. It makes me cry. No amount of academic achievement can overshadow this fact. It's life's test, and I'm failing it. No one can know what this feels like. It's like still being at the starting line after the race has begun, or being the only one not in on the joke. It's breaking me. I need help.

You don't know what that is, but it makes me very happy!