It's Monday.
It's the spring semester.
And now, stuff is finally coming together.

In any event, I was forced to wait until school actually started to attain a 12 credit, full time school status. And in waiting, I was able to find 3 extra credits which help me rid of all my accounting requirements by the end of May. Now that's awesome.
However, I am still incomplete without a class with Tavie. She tries to encourage me to join a three-hour Wednesday night Ceramics class. Now, I know it may sound interesting, and that having five economics courses will drain the hell outta me, but I must be realistic about this. I really intend on leaving college sometime by January. I am only 30 credits (2 semesters) away. That's summer school, and a fall semester. January or February, I intend to graduate. I can't take nothing that won't help me. So there...
My iPod will be rolling in a two-month-versary in February, and I plan to celebrate by buying a new case. As to which one I should get, I'm all up recommendations.

I would like to wish all thanks for wishing me a speedy get over it. I would like to announce to all that I have finally "moved on"...

I for one would like to know though what happened to Mikey. One minute, he's all over the country, the next minute, he's disappeared. In all seriousness, I really hope he did not get drafted. I remember him expressing his fears on that, fears that I share as well by the way. And man, well, I'll just wish the best...

Now, I said I was gonna try to get in another freelance...
I tried to find some inspiration, but in all the atmosphere, it got me depressed.
I tried going through some old poems, but I realised just how depressing I can get!
That's not good, especially for me.
So, what I'll do is post was is to me, the least depressing poem I've written. It has nothing to do with me, but the ideas were stuck in my head at the time I wrote it; so I decided to get rid of it. One of my earliest pieces, from the vault...

Alone In A Cemetery

Alone in a cemetery, standing near tides,
near tombs of deception and little white lies,
looking at death from all races and tribes...
I was three years old; and alone in a cemetery.

Then I heard my mother cry
On that night my grandpa died
and I really didn't understand why...
I was three years old; and alone in a cemetery.

Now I'm old, and understand
and no longer need to demand
exactly why my mother felt so sad.
But then, I was three years old; and alone in a cemetery.

When I look back, I feel pain too.
Although I was youg and didn't know what to do.
Now it's time to move on when the skies are blue...
But then, I was three years old... and alone in a cemetery.