Mr. Bojangles

I knew a man Bojangles and he danced for you in worn out shoes
With silver hair, a ragged shirt and baggy pants, the old soft shoe
He jumped so high, he jumped so high, Then he lightly touched down
I met him in a cell in New Orleans, I was - down and out
He looked at me to be the eyes of age as he spoke right out
He talked of life, he talked of life, he laughed, slapped his leg a step
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles, dance!
He said his name, Bojangles, then he danced a lick across the cell
He grabbed his pants a better stance, oh, he jumped up high, Then he clicked his heels
He let go a laugh, he let go a laugh, Shook back his clothes all around
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles, dance!
He danced for throws at minstrel shows and county fairs
Through out the south
He spoke with tears of fifteen years how his dog and him
Had traveled about
His dog up and died, he up and died, after twenty years he still grieves
He said I dance now at every chance in honky tonks
For drink and tips
But most of the time I spend behind these county bars
'Cause I drinks a bit'
He shook his head and as he shook his head I heard someone ask him
`Please'Please ..........
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles, dance!
Mr. Bojangles, Mr. Bojangles
Mr. Bojangles, dance!

Genius Only Comes Along in Storms of Fabled Foreign Tongues

Today I wore polka dot socks. I really like them. When I grow up, will I still be allowed to wear them? Because they freakin win.

I figured out how to use the awesome notebook I bought.

Beating Heart, Baby

To update you my lovlies, today I took a mental health day. Basically woke up, drove my stepdad to the train, came home, went back to bed. I woke up a little later and decided I wouldn't be going to school today. I got back out of bed, drove my sister to her ride's house and went back home. I lazied about on the couch for a few hours and then decided (I have no idea why) to watch Something's Got To Give.

It was great.

After about a thousand people asking me why I wasn't at school and the movie, I took a shower. This shower, so impossibly amazing, got me thinking. If you've seen the movie I just mentioned, you might know why. Anywho, I was thinking. About life. Not the whole thing, but one aspect.

As you grow up, your parents (most likely) raise you. What does that mean, to be raised? They shape you and mold you and make you into who they think you should be. This is not only acceptable, but expected.

But then, as you get older, you start searching for other people. Friends. Lovers. What have you. This is where the rules change. No longer are other people allowed to try to mold you or change you. They should just accept you for the unique person you are. Right?

They don't though. Everyone has expectations they hold other people to. Everyone is influential whether it's intentional or subconcious. What if they say they accept you for who you are, if they believe it themselves, and then it turns out even they didn't know themselves well enough? They do want you to change. What if they don't like your pace or your choices? What do you do?

Is it that we spend our lives looking for someone who wants what we want or for someone who can accept what we want?

Haven't You Heard That I'm the New Cancer?

Think about it.

Oh, Canada

My breif piece of history. I'm Irish and a touch English, those blokes traveled to Prince Edward Island so now my sister is convinced she is Canadian, they came to good ole US of A. Then muuuuch later my great grandpa Hugo came to the US from Sweden. Yeah, I'm cool like that. Knowing my history.

Oh, Wonderful Caricature of Intimacy.

This post isn't meant to be a downer, I feel much better than my last post. It just seems to me that everyone who shouldn't break up is and everyone who should isn't. It makes zero sense to me.

My friends both just got dumped, and from what I could tell, they had been happy just days before. My family, however, has this huge rift and I'm way too cowardly to say anything about it. I'm honestly concerned about my mother's happiness right now. More later, I suppose.

Perfect Situation

I'm in a terrible mood. There is no other way around that. My mom is pissing me off, my sister doesn't care about anyone but herself, and there are a whole myriad of additional things that make me want to punch someone, anyone, solidly in the face and then go to bed. Perhaps for days.

I don't want to be touched.
I don't want to talk.
I don't want to go out.
I don't want to feel better.
I want to be angry for a while.