legovanan
"What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset." -Crowfoot; Blackfoot warrior, 1890

My last day upon this Earth as a fourteen-year-old. Wow.. it's gone by so quickly. I feel so old. I think I'm overly depressing myself. I look back on the past too much. What have I accomplished in this fourteen years? How many more fourteen years do I have? Have I made any difference in these years? I remember when I was 9, well about to turn 9, and Kathleen turned 10, and I was so jealous of her because she was in DOUBLE DIGITS! GASP! that seems so far away!

ARGH!! I was suddenly inspired today for the first time in the direction of poetry in a LONG LONG LONG LONG time at the restaurant. My dad didn't have a pen on him, so now my inspiration is GONE. ARGH!!! But I think I'm going to do a pair of poems. There will be many ways to look at them. They will be true for me, or at least one of them will. If you want to look at it in a fan fiction/Tolkien perspective, its going to be the Two Kindreds, each lamenting their fate; neither unsatisfied, coveting what the other abhors.