secretly five

I've recently discovered that I really like to read aloud, especially books by Roald Dahl. I am in the midst of George's Marvellous Medicine. I also like to make up little songs about whatever I am doing at the moment. For example, today I made up a really great song about wiggling my toes. Perfectly reasonable. Yesterday, I found out that it's a lot of fun to type in gibberish into google translate and click on the speaker to make it say the gibberish aloud. Depending on what language it's set to, the computer will pronounce the gibberish differently.

Because of all these behaviors, one would think that I like children. I sort of don't. Is that mean?

wish list

to make lists in my head, to be on time, to care about my grades, to go to college, to not go to college, to live in a hammock in the rain forest, to lie on a beach at night and look at the stars while the waves tell me a bedtime story, to read out loud, to be sung to, to travel and know that I can come back home, to have perfect pitch, to be funnysmartbeautiful, to have no homework, to hold hands in the park on a rainy day.

space

I love listening to happy music. Even when I'm not happy, it's comforting to know that somebody, somewhere, at some point was or is. I really wish that I could make happy music. I'm not quite sure how to.

I know I haven't written in a while, here anyway, and I'm not sure why. It's definitely a mental thing. I mean, it's not as if I have nothing to say all of a sudden, it's just...well, I'm not quite sure what it is, precisely. Maybe lack of sleep? Maybe I'm getting homework now that school has started. Maybe I still have some history reading to do and questions to answer. I think that might be part of it.

I keep thinking about how many people live on the planet, and how I don't know them, but how they each have their own separate lives that they are living totally separately from mine, and that they haven't even thought of me, and I've never thought of them, individually. Then I think about how vast the world, the universe, and everything is, and then I can't sleep. Sometimes I wish that I was a robot that could turn off for a certain amount of time, and then at the time I need to wake up, I would automatically turn back on, so that I would always be on time for school. It's sad that everything goes back to school. School has totally consumed my personality.

the why

I'm afraid that I say too much without actually saying anything at all, and I'm afraid that if I start to write most of what I think here, it won't be real anymore because it has left my head. My new literature teacher said that we can't hoard ideas; we need to share them with each other in order to have discourse, and accomplish things. I think that life is different than literature though, even though literature can tell us about life-what if your idea escapes and you forget? What if it was never a good one in the first place? Everything becomes more real once said aloud. There are certain things that I want to say but never do, and there is something that I said once but will probably never repeat, and there are stories I've written that will never be seen by anyone, because I am a greedy idea hoarder always hungry for words, for the right words, but they are always just out of my grasp. Writing is different than talking though, because you can be as honest as you want and say that it's only pretend, but if you're honestly pretending while speaking, you're lying. I don't like lying, no matter what you call it, so I like reading and writing words better than hearing and speaking them sometimes. A lot of the time. I like to pretend that I'm pretending and still have it be the truth.

movies I've seen in church

-Superbad

-The Piano (but only the violent/sex scenes)

-Priscilla Queen of the Desert

-Eurotrip

What religion is this, you may ask? Unitarian Universalism.

gorgeous?

I am in the car on the way to Philadelphia right now. Typing in a car is strange, and I've never done it before, but it felt neccessary a minute ago. I was looking out of the window and thinking, and somehow I started thinking about spelling, and then I thought about how the word "gorgeous" is spelled, which led me to think about Gia, which makes me sad. But anyway, I came to the conclusion that gorgeous is a strange word. It's gorge+ous. Gorge? I now have this image in my head of people looking at something beautiful, and gorging themselves on its beauty. If it's gorgeous, it's something worth gorging on. Realizing that this whole concept is really silly and inaccurate, I looked up the etymology of gorgeous. It turns out that gorgeous is from the Middle French gorgias, which means elegant and fashionable, perhaps literally meaning "necklace", because all of that comes from Old French gorge, which means bosom or throat. All of which I learned from dictionary.com, by the way. We didn't exactly bring our dictionary on the trip. And I looked up gorge by itself, and it comes from the same place. So I'm totally wrong, but also sort of right, in a way. I think.

This is one example of the several useless kind of things I think about constantly, and I apologize for its dullness. Then again, I can write whatever I want. I'll write something actual soon, most likely.