Obligatory Journal Post #01101010

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen...:blah blah:... you look wonderful in your suits and sarees this evening :blahblahetc:.."

I'm willing to bet a good box of orange tic tacs that somebody is going to say that at Valedictory this Saturday.

Which brings me to the point of this blog post: I'm graduating this Saturday!
:Yay, woohoo, tears et al:

Really. No sarcasm and all. Full enthu is coming.
Fourteen years. Fourteen phenomenal, fucking wonderful years I've spent here, and now, I'm finally being kicked out into the big, bad world to tackle whatever shenanigans life throws at me. Full nostalgia trippage is happening.
:sniffle:

As with most things, the preparation for the actual event is more overwhelming than the actual event itself.
All around me everyone is doing their darn best to look amazing for valedictory. I hear talk of crash diets, and starving, among other things.
Me? I'm sitting on my bum watching Desperate Housewives on tv and drinking my weight in mango juice.

Living the dream, folks.

"Don't get sentimental, it always ends up drivel."

You take your usual seat by the window, headphones and all.

The big red bus ambles along the road, and then halts at a traffic signal. You gaze fixedly out the bus window, at the next lane.
Bikes and cars flit endlessly across it.
You spot something hovering above the lane. It's a butterfly.
A big, butterfly; with wings striped a black and bright orange. A Monarch.
Of course, you christen it Madame Butterfly.

Madame Butterfly hovers over the road, dodging the endless volley of vehicles.
She performs an intricate ballet, pirouetting around each bike. Twirl, twirl, flip.
She dances the Danse Macabre as if she's done so all her precious little life.
You smile to yourself. Your heart has formed an unspoken bond with Madame Butterfly already.

Suddenly, Madame Butterfly falters.
She got too carried away.
A misstep.
A stumble.
One
Tiny
Slip-up.

A bike collides with Madame Butterfly, as you watch in horror.
Her wing is broken.
Her spirit, wounded.
She quietly falls to the ground, with the grace of a dead leaf.
Wings twitch, legs are going.
No sooner does she touch the ground, than three vehicles run over her body in quick succession.
Madame Butterfly is dead.
Crushed like a bug in the ground.


The bus starts to move.
Macklemore is playing on your iPod. Otherside.

She never got up, she never got up

We live on the cusp of death thinkin' that it won't be us

It won't be us

It won't be us

It won't be us

A tiny part of you died with Madame Butterfly that day.

Mogadishu.

Backstory: At 1:30am this morning, when the whole world was fast asleep, I was supposed to be studying for a certain literature exam.

And then a friend sent me this picture.

I'll admit I laughed at this way more, and way louder than I should.

HAI SPD.

Weekend Update. Just not as hilarious as SNL.

This past week has been very eventful, to say the least.


Sony stopped manufacturing the PlayStation 2 sometime last week.
A moment of silence, please.
:'Amazing Grace' on bagpipes plays in the background; tears etc.:
The most successful gaming console of all time, the ps2 also has the sole distinction of being the only gaming console that I own. Many summers were spent sitting in front of the TV, armed with my trusty controller, perfecting my backhand and my Kamehameha. It seems as if it was only yesterday that I beat everyone else's ass at Budokai Tenkaichi 3 and Sega Tennis, and failed miserably at God of War and FIFA '11. But, no matter how terrible a gamer I might be, the ps2 shall always hold a special place in my heart.
Thanks for the memories. ;_;

I also decided that I'd had enough of botany for a lifetime and had an impromptu coming-of-age movie marathon, starting with The Breakfast Club and The Graduate, and ending in a big, sobbing mess of tears and feelings. God. See what trying to live out your entire teenage life through movies in a single day does to you?
One of the movies watched that day was 'The Perks of Being a Wallflower', based on the book of the same name. I'd read the book sometime in 11th std. (Yes, 'std.'. Not grade. Yuck. 'Grade' feels so pretentious.)
It was a nice read, and I'll admit it got me through some pretty bad times. It's in the form of letters to an unnamed girl from a boy who calls himself Charlie. The book is about, well, high school, growing up, relationships, friends, the whole shebang.
It references Catcher in the Rye, The Smiths, The Rocky Horror Picture Show, and the scene with them dancing to "Come on Eileen" is hilarious.
You ever get the feeling a movie was custom made just to suit your likes and dislikes? Throughout the movie, I was thinking, "Holy shit. Catcher in the Rye, The Smiths AND The Rocky Horror Picture Show in a single movie. This is actually happening. Woooow."
Besides all that, the movie was quite alright. It's a good adaptation of the book. Full of quotable quotes. I liked it, somewhat better than the book in fact. The characters really came to life in the movie, and Ezra Miller was completely awesome as Patrick.

Okay, I'll go now. Botany is the devil incarnate. I'm pretty sure that in the depths of hell, there exists a hellhound with each of its heads named Holard, Echard and Chresard.


Edit: I made a playlist! Check it or so help me God I'll eat you  :]
Edit #2: 100th post! Woohoo!

:[

Dear whoever's up there:

This new year better be fucking amazing.

Regards,
Snickerdoodle.