Crow

Black Phoenix
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2002-10-11 04:19:42 (UTC)

Their Notions

I bought a notebook today, a small one, so that I can
record my thoughts before they are forgotten in the
swirling confines of my mind. I had no worthwhile thoughts
after the purchase, and discovered I had forgotten all the
ones that the purchase had been intended for. I do remember
one thing, though. I am not in the habit of writing such
monotonous as are found in my daily life, however one came
to pass that I feel has a bit of signifigance.

I was sitting in my last class, waiting for my daily
alotment of prefabricated knowlage to be forced into my
brain (though at my school they have a liking for you to
force it in at your own pace), when the class was informed
that a car had flipped right outside, and the woman inside
was fine. This was all well and good, but for the fact that
upon landing her aerial stunt, a crowd of around 50
students from the two nearby schools gathered around and
promptly began to take bits and pieces of the ruined
vehicle. This did not disturb me so much for I have learned
to take it for granted that people are stupid, and few
moreso than my fellow teens. What struck me is the fact
that our teacher tried then to force compassion from us.
The fact that there was none to be found apparently
befuddled our devoted teacher, and drove her into a tirade
that illustrated the need for us to be compassionate to
others misfortune. The thing I wish to state is this: You
cannot force compassion. You cannot expect such ignorant
people to have an idea of past generations penetrate their
head without proper cause or context.

Unfortunately the strands that bind me to my person are
strong, and again I have felt them creep up, reaching from
out of my darkness to gain strength among the words of
others. This must be stopped, but I am too tired to do
anything about it now but bleed.

And so the scars accumulate


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