A Dog's "Artistic" Death

I am so disgusted right now, I can't even begin to discribe. I just read that a so called "artist", Guillermo Vargas Habacuc, decided that it was artistic to take a dog off the streets, tie it to an art studio wall, and have everyone watch it die. I don't feel good. Seriously. I might throw up.

To call this art is barbaric and disgusting and cruel. It just sat there and starved to death. And what makes me all the more angry is that the Visual Arts Biennial of Central America invited him to do the same at their Biennial of 2008!

Sign this petition to stop this from happening again. They should do the same to the artist...or feed him to a dog!

http://www.petitiononline.com/ea6gk/petition.html

I'm Annoyed

Why did our school block facebook? Why? WHY!!! Schoolwork is too tedious to focus on for long!

Angst

I was reading over some poems I had to write in free verse for my advanced english class, and I realized how much they sucked. They're full of angst. Here's one.

DEAREST FRIDA

Violent red; murky brown; sooty black; pallet of her choice:
The world is dark, for dearest Frida,
And life is the depth of regret, hatred, sorrow--
The crushing oblivion--she feels in her heart.

Bound by myriads of excruciating pain, numbness, rage, dearest Frida begins to paint
A world of lost dreams, nightmares. Daymares.
Her life spins in a haze of death.
A haze of disillusion.

Crashes, dying child, pain severs the connection with reality
A reality too harsh for dearest Frida.
The suffering unceasing, falling, smashing
As her child wanders away. Forever gone.

Youth, a concept lost forever in the violent accident of a mere hour, nay, minute;
Love, a time felt trick on the soul of dearest Frida
Who yearns, but never reaches, knowing there is no use
Poor, dearest Frida.


If I didn't know me, I'd say I was depressed and on something. Ha ha, I'm neither!

Painful

I feel as though something in me has been drowning for the longest time, and I realize that it's confidence. Not the confidence they talk about in self-help books, but confidence in others; confidence in those I care about. Whenever I look around me, I see things and people falling apart. More than that, though-they're becoming hollow.
I know, that makes no sense. But nothing means as much as it did to me before. My parents divorced at the end of march, and my father told me he was engaged less than a week later. I'll be attending his wedding in a few weeks.
One of my best friends is no longer talking to me, and I have absolutely no idea why. He's decided that I no longer fit into his life, and for this, I feel more angry than I should.
Another good friend has drifted from the person she once was, and I can't respect her in the same way I once did.
Another one of my friends is yearning for someone to love her the way love has always been portrayed for her, and I'm afraid that such a love doesn't exist. I don't know how to tell her, so all I can do is watch and wait and continue trying to persuade her to be more careful with her heart.
Another one of my friends is settling for someone who does not deserve her, and she won't listen to me. I'd let it be, but he's hurt her before.
Another one of my friends found out that she has cysts, and consequentially may not be able to have children, but we're still waiting and praying.
My friend's father is dying, and I think that this is what hurts me the most. He hurts so much, and all I can do is sit around aimlessly and watch, give a few hugs, etc. I want to help so much, but I feel useless. There should be a way to comfort him.

I'm complaining so much, but I'm too upset right now to care. maybe I shouldn't post this.

Too late.

Hmph

I wonder what prought Sophocles to put "Oedipus Rex" to pen. I'd rather he didn't. The entire story had me upset with him for being so ignorant when the facts were in front of him. Pride is nothing to his ignorance. True, pride blinds him, but it is more than that. He doesn't want to believe that he killed his father and married his mother, as I doubt that incest was looked highly upon. The entire story is disgusting.

And I appreciate the part that says "blood splattered from his ruined sockets like hail."

Nice.

Why are things so complicated?

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Amber Fullmer: A Life Crowded With Incidents To No Satisfactory Ending

I think it's catchy.