My heart turns one meter of silver to an ounce of gold, and earth still revolves around the sun.
My luck lately has been spectacular, but I am still bouncing between failing and passing my grades in college. I hope I do. I hope I pass all of them, learn some time management skills and am able to continue to better myself, because I have the opportunity to.
I heard one time, John F. Kennedy was misquoted in the way he spoke German with a Boston accent. Instead of the German form of "I am a Berliner," he told the crowd "I am a pickle."
I've attempted to swallow the brown pill, allow myself to sit and be complacent. I wrote a story about a man unable to get published, running around, typing of himself mocking himself. It was filled to the brim with absolutely nothing, some horrid writing and an art house feel. I describe it as a satire three times, once claiming it is a satire about writing a satire. I find it to be a random mess of words, segments from my life at that point. I find it to be a stab at nearly every self righteous intellectual. Them types, who spend their mind making a twisted, intellectual myspace, learning wise words from fellows and reusing the same garbage over and over. I enjoy watching them try and impress people, its like a twisted car wreck. I was very proud of my story, and I hope it wins the contest.
Another example of my luck is the number thirteen. From thirteens asking me to escape from "Ye Old Pit of Crime," Calgary to the numbers of pages in essays I've written for school. I failed horribly in both occasions, but made very nice art. The essay was my best work I feel. I had two extra days to do it after I thought it was done and I figured it was good enough, so I left two brilliant editorial mistakes, my mothers typed "(Really?)" and "(Maybe you should explain this better?)" right on the first page. There was one more on the second. I felt like a dumbass and now I must get a good grade on the final, in order to pass.
I found myself with a 26 song double album about a month and a half ago, and was dizzy for two weeks until I recorded two new songs.
This Friday the Thirteenth the Harlem Gospel Choir is making a stop in Penticton. I bought a ticket. I had to, it will be brilliant. All I hope is I hand in the report I am asked to do on it and pass my classes for the next few days.