Collage may be on the growing unrest and violence in Syria. The government gave a 72-hour warning for protestors to stop in the city of Homs...if they don't, they may face a masscre:
http://edition.cnn.com/2011/12/12/world/meast/syria-unrest/
I want to do research on Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, the perpetrators of the Columbine massacre.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
yesterday, i almost killed a dove
yesterday, i almost killed a dove. it was a scant few inches from making the transition from avian symbol of tranquility to grotesque sack of bones plastered to my windshield. i made no effort to swerve or brake my vehicle upon the appearence of my winged friend- i kept a steady trajectory and left the bird's life to fate. i was bored and tired, but sober-worn out from sitting in my car at the local 7-11, sharing ciggarrettes with erik as he continuously "invested" in low-price, low reward scratch tickets.
there's something thoroughly tiring about a boring span of hours spent in my chrysler. after dropping erik off, i turned onto a darkening forest street, heading towards route 1. this oft-used street was not without its demons-ma came home with a busted leg and a crumpled minivan once, and pointed out the tree on forest street that caused all the trouble. that's not to say i don't have fond memories on that street- memories of loud music setting the rhythmn for even louder conversations between the band, or back when my driving plastic was still relatively fresh and i would push my speed far beyond the limit, my friends and I searching for-and recieving-the typical teenage thrill.
the dove, at first, was simply a flutter of the purest white in my peripheral vision, tumbling awkwardly out of the flanking forestry into the airspace above the left lane. it gained speed, still trying to balance its wings, and crossed my lane somewhere above my headlights milliseconds before i sped by, doing a modest 30-in-a-35. only when I sped past the animal was I forced to acknowledge its presence- the way that pure white contrasted so greatly with the wet, glistening darkness of the forest. the dove seemed to glow, even, illuminating a small portion of the surrounding darkness with its radiance, and at that very moment i guess my life changed a little more for the better. i became more like the dove and less like the dark. and i was saved.
there's something thoroughly tiring about a boring span of hours spent in my chrysler. after dropping erik off, i turned onto a darkening forest street, heading towards route 1. this oft-used street was not without its demons-ma came home with a busted leg and a crumpled minivan once, and pointed out the tree on forest street that caused all the trouble. that's not to say i don't have fond memories on that street- memories of loud music setting the rhythmn for even louder conversations between the band, or back when my driving plastic was still relatively fresh and i would push my speed far beyond the limit, my friends and I searching for-and recieving-the typical teenage thrill.
the dove, at first, was simply a flutter of the purest white in my peripheral vision, tumbling awkwardly out of the flanking forestry into the airspace above the left lane. it gained speed, still trying to balance its wings, and crossed my lane somewhere above my headlights milliseconds before i sped by, doing a modest 30-in-a-35. only when I sped past the animal was I forced to acknowledge its presence- the way that pure white contrasted so greatly with the wet, glistening darkness of the forest. the dove seemed to glow, even, illuminating a small portion of the surrounding darkness with its radiance, and at that very moment i guess my life changed a little more for the better. i became more like the dove and less like the dark. and i was saved.
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