justnick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Requiem for the dying BGM: "Story of my life" - Social Distortion They say a hanging man hears glorious music. I wonder what it sounds like. I wonder if it's sad like a dirge, or glorious, like an epitaph song at a funeral. Maybe there's no music at all. I remember at Wes' funeral, though, when the piper played. A part of me wanted him to falter. To cry, to fall, to miss a note. Anything. Wes was music to me, no one could have done him justice that way, I thought. It felt like sacralidge. But he didn't mess up. He stood, stoic like a statue, and played amazing grace. It was clear as a bell, and I swear he must have been the only person who wasn't in tears when it was over. I can't decide if I love that memory or hate it. OK, change of pace... So here's my weekend, people. Friday I went to Clyde's AGAIN and that was fun. I got dropped off at the bus stop at half past 2 or so, and waited for the bus to come. Well, at 4am, I was ready to freeze to death, and had just about given up on the freakin bus, so I called a taxi. It cost me 35 dollars to get home. I was rather annoyed. That money was supposed to buy me school books. Yesterday I saw confessions of a dangerous mind. Far too much male nudity, not nearly enough female nudity. I am not attracted to Julia Roberts in the Least, however. She just doesn't do it for me at all. The movie itself, was good enough to warrant the ten dollars though. The directing was good, the cinematography was not. Sorry, folks, I'm a film student. OK, I'll leave well enough alone now. I'm off to make hangman's music. Excelsior. 3:01 p.m. - 2003-02-09 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||
|
||||||