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Kiwi Crocus
24 August 2008 @ 03:25 pm
Today feels full of stink.

Tomorrow, even sailing, has ominous intentions of being full of stink.

September, in all its schooled glory, has complete potential of being full of stink.

I am drowning in the putrid stench of stink and I want to curl up in a ball and cry through September. My daydreams now consist of my driving to the Aggie with a blanket, patting it down near the pond, and crying my eyes out. Variations include: Mrs. Cavanagh coming out and comforting me, Shaya coming out and taking me for a walk, Mr. Dufault coming out and prodding me with sarcasm into a little smile, Mrs. Steele coming out and making me laugh with her antics, Ms. Watson coming out and understanding everything and resting on the blanket with me looking at the trees for a while, and Mrs. Brown coming out and needling the truth out of me with fierce-painted maternal looks.

Yes. I am dangling precariously on the precipice of becoming the Aggie's own Moaning Myrtle, stung with the absence of school and friends as opposed to viewed by the pee-yellow eyes of a one Hogwarts Basilisk.

Now I'm going to go shower and have my day to say goodbye to my best friend after crying basically from New Jersey to Connecticut, because I had started smelling the approaching stink of life from that distance.

There we go. A dashing, literary entry from Kiwi! I'm sure it could sound surprisingly beautiful if you don't analyze all the meanings, which would ironically make one a bad reader... But I don't blame you if you merely wish to offer approbation to the adjectives and not consider their foreshadowing for the next month of my life.

After all, that's what I want to do.