let lemons be angry

Oh dear. i've become one of those j2s i swore i wouldn't be, one who peers into the j1 arena to pick out things to laugh at. Except i'm worse. Watching them through binoculars from the art balcony with ivan was not a very dignified thing to do, although it was very educational and i dare say, fun. You can pick up secrets of a person's life by looking at the little things he does. The guy who runs with his hands protecting his fragile heart, with feet that don't dare to lift off because he fears change. The pair of boys who were trying to be fitter than the other by not panting, but who were actually secretly very tired and longed to sit in the canteen. Oh dear. Oh dear. I should find another way to amuse myself before something shockingly tragic happens, like me falling off the balcony with binoculars in hand. Now that must never happen.

It was one of those weeks that gave me more than i'd bargained for. The start of the week saw me traumatised, and the end of the week i was a ragdoll, flop-over tired. I made it through an after-school schedule of art history, training, sv welcome tea and manda's party yesterday, 12 hours of travelling and unusual events. Today i had a gleeful thought: the government tried to make the Underground Rock Activists crumble by taking away kazaa--our life source, but we prevailed and found other ways to continue our good work. To the discovery of more free music sources!

i changed the photos on the wall
so you can't see me here at all
and you can't live inside my room
and you can't brighten up the gloom
i changed the photos on the wall