Et une autre parole de chanson

On me dit que nos vies valent pas grand chose,

Elles passent en un instant comme fanent les roses.

On me dit que le temps qui glisse est un salaud que nos chagrins il s'en fait

des manteaux pourtant quelqu'un m'a dit...

Que tu m'aimais encore.

C'est quelqu'un qui m'a dit que tu maimais encore.

Serait possible alors?

On me dit que le destin se moque bien de nous

Qu'il donne rien et qu'il nous promet tous

Parais qu'le bonheur est a portee de main,

Alors on tend la main et on se retrouve fou

By Carla Bruni, the first lady of France. Excuse the lack of accents, I'm not much of one for html or computer formatting. Would this be as beautiful if it wasn't in French?

There is a light that never goes out

Take me out tonight

Where there's music and there's people

Who are young and alive

Driving in your car

I never never want to go home

Because I haven't got one anymore

The Smiths hit the nail on the head with this one. Adolescence, isolation, longing for meaning. Aren't we lucky to be young and alive? But are the Smiths right and do we have a home anymore?

Four years and so many miles ago...

Today I happened upon the blog I wrote on throughout middle school and early high school. It was called a xanga, and everyone who was anyone had one. Before the advent of facebook, texting, and twitter, we used the internet to express ourselves (in what some may even argue was a meaningful way). We used complete sentences and paragraphs to get our point across- and these blogs were actually fairly well-written! Reading my posts old posts bemoaning the life of an apathetic high schooler made me wonder if I was a better writer back then than I am now, and if I am still close to as funny as I was then. Not to toot my own horn, but some of my posts were outright hilarious! I outed myself for submitting a fake post-secret to Silver Chips (it got printed too!). The notecard said "I hate my friends. I have voodoo dolls of all of them in my sock drawer". I never did practice voodoo, but I wasn't actually that fond of everyone I spent time with because they were friends through friends or peripheral acquaintances, and by joking about it and telling everyone it was fully a lie, I was able to say how I felt outright to the whole school. I probably channeled most of my sarcasm and anger onto the internet, because I was not one to talk much back in 10th grade. Boy, have things changed.