I must recreate this today.



And I must write a paper about these.

 

LAAA LA LAAAAAAAAAAA

I'm beginning to think that people are repulsed by me/don't want to live with me/think I'm smelly/generally annoyed.
The question is... Why? Damnit damnit damnit I want to be loved all the time. Too bad I gotta be such a paranoid smelly bitch.

(this isn't my creation.. it belongs to someone who I really don't talk to/care about anymore. but eh..)

In other news, Kitchen Counter Culture (well so far that's our name) is practicing for the first time tomorrow. Once I have a kickass band, everything will change and this town will RESPECT me. That would be nice. I often type "Thad" instead of "That" and then have to correct myself. Cute, huh? Thad would be nice.

Melrose

Smack dab in the middle of campus is a old dorm building called Melrose. Every day, I drag my cello and bag of food up to this building and climb up the stairs to the RA room on the second floor. The room is completely empty, except for a folding chair and stand. I check my reflection, make some adjustments, place my lunch on the shelf, and unload my cello and sheet music. From the window, I can see the hideous "whirlwind of opportunity" sculpture on the pedestrian walkway.

I begin to play open strings, letting my arm sink into the string with all its weight. The sound fills the empty room and bounces against every surface, finally escaping through the cracked window, leaking down the side of the building, and trickling down the sidewalk. I glance out the window and see people looking the the left, right, and up above. I'm never sure what they're looking for but I pray that they hear the residue my sounds and are desperate to find the source. I tell myself that all these punk kids really need is some exposure to Rachmaninoff. Then they wouldn't need to watch MTV. HEY PUNK KIDS,  TAYLOR SWIFT AIN'T GOT NUTHIN ON THIS SHIT!

I take a break and run through the halls, then open random doors, hoping to find somebody lying in bed who never got the memo that Melrose is closed for good. I say, "Dude! Do you realize you're the only person living in this building? All the other rooms are empty!." They say something like, "What are you talking about? I've just been sleeping here. You need to get out of my room or I'll find the RA" Then I say, "I am the RA. That's my room over there. And by the way, I've been using the men's restroom." Then I tap dance down the hall while I eat my carrot.