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I wrote in English Class
Monday, September 24, 2007

I wrote in English class, and I, not once, did recite, not did I take down note. I was in a panic mode, I needed to write. I wrote about English class, I listened not to English class. It's a free verse. No meter, just rhyme. A work that's pressed by time. Tis a work to express and not impress. Forgive the weakling, for sense was excluded from my existence



During Her English Class



The beads of cold, inclement, ice
Crashed against plastic, resounding stale rice
Against the thin flat surface
Of the roof it does graze
Tiptapping so quickly
Landing, yet with immediacay splattering clamorously
She wanted it in words, she wanted it written
She looked around and desired what was smitten
By sweetness yet overflowing bitterness
And irony yet none seemed best
She sighted a notebook
With colors worthy of a look
No, a look exceeding the second look
The swirling and patterns
Made her brain rush to a panicked tavern
She wrote until her pen was merely
An istrument that's got ink to dispose merrily
She shook her head to push away
The sounds of voices and sights of May
Her stomach clenched as her mind soon went
Blankly to a place she kept unconscious,
A part she kept then
A state where all her truths
Are buried in a forgotten pile of soot
The true conqueror of herself
The persons whose hands achieved the theft
The persons whose beings imprisoned her heart
The persons no one must know
The persons none will be privileged to know as art
Hid behind the barrier of a pretty red bow
And then she listened to the clam
After a furious rickety realm
Was subjected to a stubborn chill
Brought by the rain ending the still
The air bit her skin foreshadowing
That the omen that thunder and lightning
Is afoot and are set to invade
The place of sanctuary and so she bade
The secluded peace enclosing her secret treasures
A sweet goodbye, and barred the cry
Of denial trapped in her larynx
Escaping the riddle thrown by a virtual sphynx
She was beautiful as a rose,
Attempting not to be the serpent that shall arose
For nothing that is is not
And to be is as unwanted as to be got




PS, I'm not sure if I've already used that icon.

Lots to do (ALL DUE TOMORROW!):
[ ] Filipino Script
[x] Envi. Ed. Reflection
[ ] Chemistry Unit Test 1
[ ] History Quiz
[ ] Geometry LP3
[ ] Memorize Pilates steps, make visual aids
[ ] Docu Progress Report --bukas na!--
[ ] Docu Budget Proposal --AFTER studying Chem na!--
[ ] Read Noli 30-36
[x] 2x2 pic for Basketball
[x] Birth Certificat for Basketball
[ ] Report Card for Basketball

Photobucket
20:59

Don't You Know Who I Think I Am?

Photobucket

Bianca Ruiz;
17;
Assumption Antipolo;
Ateneo de Manila University;
Management Engineering;
Occupation: Professional sleeper; Addiction: The faded era of the orange ball & persuation & color pigments;
True Addiction: Me&You.

Out To Me

Dead
Double Dead
Y!M
anca613703@yahoo.com
Email
anca613703@yahoo.com
mariabiancaleanneruiz@yahoo.com
biancaruizmatters@yahoo.com

I Constantly Thank God For Esteban Hearts

* scent of paint
* Books (with the S)
* Debate!
* Basketball (End Here)
* Tickets and jellybeans
* Reese's
* sofas
* Da Vinci, Monet, Progress, Progressive
* loving && much more loving
* Touch screen @-)
* Candy && Chocolate Bars && String Cheese!

Desperate For Attention



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