Sonnet L

For love, and freedom.

There are chains that bind you in a way I
cannot affect. I see the pain they bring
you and I wish that I could help you fly,
But only you can free yourself. You cling
To adolescent hopes that cannot change
Your ever-darkening situation.
You try to pick the lock with calm exchange
But reason here is useless. Oppression
Tortures you with whips of fire. Your wings
Are bound with strength so great you cannot trust
That all will be resolved alone. Some things
Take your own will to find freedom. You must
Break free, my bird. Your strength can do no wrong.
Break free, my bird, and sing your victor song.

Sorry if I Cussed

OOOk. So I just posted two English sonnets, and there are more to come, but for now I want to tell you about this ridiculous and highly embarrassing scenario I was forced to endure last night. It was torturous. And did I mention embarrassing.
I went to dance, and I hadn't changed into my dance clothes yet, so, yes. I was in civilian clothes. I opened up my bag, expecting to find my dance stuff, but lo and behold, there was none! Arg! I groaned and complained to my dance acquaintance about having forgotten my dance stuff again like an idiot and asked her if she had any extra tights or something that I could wear, and she did not. So I scrounged around in the Lost and Found and eventually had to ask her (acquaintance) if I could wear her pants that she had on, as they were stretchy. She let me wear them after a rather lengthy warning about how they would be too small and I said I know, but give them to me anyway.
I went into the studio, and of course it just happened to be Parent Viewing Week (parents and the like can come watch all the classes and scrutinize us) so my acquaintance's, who I will refer to as NP, mother was there. Her mother is very competitive and is currently hating my guts because I got the lead part in our show and her daughter didn't.
Anyway, so I was standing at the barre in NP's pants and her mom suddenly pounces on me and says "NP doesn't want you wearing those pants." Like, she says this harshly and rudely and abruptly in front of the whole class. And both my teacher and I were thinking whaaaaaaaaaaaat?And then she said it again. Like once wasn't enough. The more humiliation the better, right? So I said, "Oh," and felt my face fill up with redness.
I was mortified.
Just for a little background information, NP and I both had a pair of pants stolen, so as if NP's mom wasn't crazy enough as it was, she is now super-paranoid about NP's pants.
So not only did I have to take off NP's stupid pants that she let me wear, but since I obviously had nothing else, I had to wear a costume. It wasn't even mine. It was this pink sparkly thing that was way too big in the boobs and had me flashing my bra left right and centre. And I didn't have tights, and I have dry skin and I needed to shave. Not cool.
So I did two and half hours of dance class in a stupid costume with her mom sitting there with a scowl on her face all the while, and she left the room for a little bit and NP just so happened to want to get her water bottle out of her bag, which took about ten minutes. No doubt she was being murdered by her nutcase of a parent.
Like, did she think I was going to walk out of the place wearing NP's pants? Why would I do that? Not only were they too small for me, but I had pants stolen from me as well. I am obviously not the thief, as I wouldn't frame myself. And if I just so happened to forget that I was wearing NP's pants and made to leave while wearing them, I'm sure NP would have reminded me. It wouldn't have surprised me at all if her psycho mom searched my bag.
My dance teacher was appalled and after they left, all she could say was what the Hell. In fact, she was going on about it to my mom today, who came to watch me. I was the last to leave, and as I was leaving my teacher said it was good my mom showed up and showed her face, to tell NP's mom to screw off. That pretty much just sums it up.
Screw off, Tracy.
Psycho bitch.

Sonnet G

For sarcasm.

Young woman, you are strong in all that you
do and are truly the epitome
of humour. I know you will continue
To make the world a happy place to be.
Your words flow like a river from your mouth,
And yet they are as dry as desert sand.
Although the way you speak can be uncouth,
We know your words are lofty and are manned
With laughter, joy and cheer upon the mind.
You cut us up, point out our flaws, and yet
We know you are using a unique kind
Of humour many a folk do not get.
Continue bringing little things to life
With irony that cuts us like a knife.

Sonnet C

For a music man.

Noble sir, it tortures me the way you
Pull upon the reins of a horse so vain.
You cannot undo trained ineptitude;
This stubborn beast will only cause you pain.
You force yourself to try and match its strength
Yet all you can produce is vengeful strife.
You push your might to many a great length;
The length you've yet to push is but your life.
However hard you press you ought not try
For trying only reaps your needless grief.
Let not the horse run free, nor make it die
For these endeavours shall not yield relief.
You must let this dark horse fall on itself.
Let it bring its own death to save your health!

Loyal

Ah, the art of procrastination. I continue to be a master of it.
So, at this rate, my essay will never be written and it will be my own fault that I fail. I will probably end up doing everything but my essay until around eight tonight, where I'll force myself into the abyss of nothingness that is writing an essay, to return sometime in the very early morning to the real world, where I will look back upon my writing and think goodness, that abyss was ruining my writing skills.
Abyss. Abyss! Abyss is such a strange word, isn't it? It's as if when you look at it there are no vowels, for by the time you reach the end of the word, the double consonants overpower the initial A and it just reminds you of a gibberish sort of thing. Abyss. It even looks a little like you spelled "abs" wrong. The more I look at it, the stranger it seems!
Alas, do not all words have this outrageous little quirk? Do they not all seem to morph into some senseless bundle of incomprehensible symbols when you stare at them and analyze them and simply think too hard about them? I do this all the time. I look too deeply at things we usually take for granted.
Like reading, for instance. How unbelievable is it?I mean, really, a bunch of lines and dots and things take on a special meaning in our brains because it was brainwashed into us at a young age. This group of shapes put in this order with this shape at the end of the sequence equals this subject in the physical world, or maybe that subject, depending on how you interpret it. It's wild! It's just lines and dots. These symbols can bring tears to our eyes and smiles to our lips and embarrassment to our cheeks. It never ceases to amaze me.
Not only does all of this happen, but how does it happen? How is it a lump of tissue in my head can make me understand all sorts of little things on a sheet of paper, and even understand what a sheet of paper is, and make me who I am and make me even type this? How is it I recognize things? How do I do anything, really? The brain is a fascinating thing, and questions are being answered. But we can't ever really truly answer them. Just what is a nerve ending? What is an impulse? What separates us from anyone else? Atoms are made up of mostly empty space. Ours is a world of emptiness. It's crazy to think about. It unfathomable in my eyes. How people can even begin to try tackling the universe is beyond me.
The universe is truly an abyss.
And know what else is strange? How accepting the world is, as unacceptable as it may seem. People claim not to accept certain people into their group or their own little universe and whatnot, they may claim to really hate someone or the things they do, but if they truly cared enough about what they deemed unacceptable, would they not rid themselves of it? Like, say, if you realllly did not like that person's haircut over there, so much that it made you want to look away, would you not go over to them and shave it off? I mean, obviously this is not socially acceptable. Ah, but there is that word again. And there is my acceptance-is-about-self theory again. You would rather be accepted by society by not shaving a random person's hair off than have that person be accepted by you. Deep down though, if you don't accept something, like a hairdo, don't you wish it had just never been created, so that you wouldn't have to reject it? Well, it has been created, so somewhere in your rejection you want to "kill" whatever it is you reject. To make yourself happy you would go get rid of that hairdo, but the world keeps you from doing so, and you don't object.
Human are funny creatures.
Another strange word is loyal. Loyal. Gosh. I don't even have to look at it for very long for it to become strange and unreal, in a way. It must be hard to learn English, what with all us mumblers around.
I end this post with an ellipses, because there will always be some parts of this train of thought that are left out.
And my essay, I suppose, no longer seems so abysmal, but rather like my teacher described it: like being stuck in a wet paper bag. So into the bag I go.