Monday, June 28, 2004
I walked the hallways in school today, on my way out after finally giving into the desire escape from the library. I was alone, not a soul existed. It was like everyone had died and I was the sole survior on the planet. Class room doors watched me, but that was all. It was empty. A wierd feeling I must say. When I walked out the door, the dying rays of sun were hitting the pavement and I thought to myself, what a beautiful evening.
I voted tonight. Cast my lot with the other countless faces. My predictions is that the Liberals will still do well, perhaps not sweep the polls but most likely dominate them. Sad really, after all the scandels and troubles we've had with them, we can't seem to get rid of them. It's like they planted a chip in our brain that somehow just makes the vast humanity want to vote red. Like we've been programmed by some evil power and we cannot control our minds or dictate change to them. It's been red, it will always be red. Though of course, like always, my predictions could be wrong and we will see a new colour. Time will tell.
Fragment
We live, how do we live?
Like fools who will not borrow
knoowing full well but never ourselve telling
there may be no to-morrow.
As grains of gold that hide in seaside sand
So lost are precious moments the heart does not command
I voted tonight. Cast my lot with the other countless faces. My predictions is that the Liberals will still do well, perhaps not sweep the polls but most likely dominate them. Sad really, after all the scandels and troubles we've had with them, we can't seem to get rid of them. It's like they planted a chip in our brain that somehow just makes the vast humanity want to vote red. Like we've been programmed by some evil power and we cannot control our minds or dictate change to them. It's been red, it will always be red. Though of course, like always, my predictions could be wrong and we will see a new colour. Time will tell.
Fragment
We live, how do we live?
Like fools who will not borrow
knoowing full well but never ourselve telling
there may be no to-morrow.
As grains of gold that hide in seaside sand
So lost are precious moments the heart does not command