What section on this test is the most important? I mean, if I were to really try on any one of the sections, which should I try on? "They're all important!"

This was the reasoning that was given to us students about the California Public High School STAR testing. The Standard Testing and Reporting program. The program that forces thousands of students into cramped rooms with bad personalities and ugly faces. The program that makes us the product of a factory. It's the fifties all over again. We're becoming the little products of America to grow up and help our country in Iraq. Which is wonderful because Vietnam is happening all over again. I will love being drafted next January so I can die for a cause I don't believe in. I was thinking of running away from the draft, but I figured I'd die doing something horrible anyway, so I might as well join a trend.

Anyway, back to this STAR test. If the proctor had given us a REAL reason for us to do well on this test, I wouldn't have been so irritated. The way she said it. It was like she was lying to us. I would have had much more respect for her if she had just come out like Eisenhower and told us the honest to God truth. The STAR testing measures each school's ability to teach their students and gives them funding based on how well the average scores are. This is obviously important, and I don't understand why a Spanish teacher proctor who makes less than thirty thousand dollars a year and wears cheap black dresses with white dots on them needs to lie to us just to prove the point that "she needs money to teach". I would've at least tried if she told us.

Basically, I grew very angry with this test and the government for lying about a lot of things. For example, although we, the citizens, are allowed to know how many soldiers die each day in IRAQ, it is illegal for the media to display coffins of soldiers on television or the news. It feels good to know that our government is trying to be subtle about all this deception. It doesn't matter, Sixty thousand kids will die again, and nobody will complain. Everyone who did got beaten up.

Back on topic. So here I was growing very angry with California as Zack De La Rocha sang to me, fueling my animosity, and the idea of writing a letter to the government popped into my head. I found a blank page on the testing booklet and began writing.

"Dear government of California,

FUCK YOU.

I've copied every answer in this section because I don't care what you think I know about shitty answers to shitty literary pieces. I copied instead of not doing because I'm sure each teacher would enjoy the extra fifty cents in their funding. God. You could've at least changed the answers on each test instead of just trying to trick us with that goddamn "version number". I checked. It's like the biggest cheaters win the most amounts of money. And hell, I could've done the entire test on my own, but after reading the first few questions, I felt that you were seriously insulting my intelligence by testing me on something I learned years ago. We need more Jack Kerouacs.

Sincerely,
-George"

My first thought was one of regret. Not because I had insulted the gods of the public education, but because I actually liked one of the pieces they gave us to analyze. A poem by Robert Frost. However, I did feel some regret later on about writing the entire thing in general, because my sister brought up the point that if the administration read that they would suspend me for cheating. I don't really care though. I'm a pussy, to be honest with you, and it felt good to write that. I'll probably erase every damn word tomorrow though. Especially since Dasha was telling me that they send them to colleges and I might not get into NYU because of it. Hah. What am I thinking now?

Calm down.

Calm down.

Just a little.

Change the music then.

Okay.

So afterwards, I was feeling too moody, so I decided to change the music I was listening to. Modest Mouse again, which was soft, and loosened me up a little. I think it's nice that my hair completely covers my headphones in class, but then again, I tried to stop listening to so much music during school because it limits the conversations I have with people I'm fond of. Anyway, after I listened to a few nice songs, I decided to pull out a couple pieces of paper and write a note to Dasha because she was kind enough to think of me the day before and write me one. I was really happy when she gave it to me because I haven't received a note or a letter from someone in a while. You could really tell she was writing it to me, and not to herself, which made me happy. Whenever I write a letter I end up talking to myself for most of the time because I don't know what to talk about. But I'm sure they don't notice. Anyway, I was writing and writing and thinking about her and wondering where we'd stand in a few months. I'm already thinking about how she's leaving during the summer for a month to become smarter than me. Which she already is. I feel so unintelligent sometimes, mainly due to my apathy. I feel that if I had a reason to do any of this schoolwork, I'd have done it by now, and be over with it. But I never really had a goal. Now I do though, so don't bother asking me. I want to create something brilliant that people will look at and feel that their lives have been improved because of it. I want them to love me. Never mind. I'm glad that Dasha, Anastasia , liked the note.

After I done with it, I started looking around the room and listened to conversations around me. This one group of kids were playing a game with movie titles that they played last year. I'm sure they laughed at the same jokes, too. Anyway, there was this one girl in the group named Ashley who works for my parents because her parents are very good customers and my dad felt bad not giving her a job. She's terrible though. She has (or had) some sort of disease that makes it so her body cannot grow fat on her arms. She shakes when she holds plates of food. I kind of laugh though, because she looks like a skeleton. My karma is horrible. Anyway, there's one girl in particular who bothers me. Christine Han. She's this Asian girl who is obsessed with getting into a good college and only does community service because it would look good on her college application, which both pisses me off and depresses me. It just bothered me because she is the stereotype of life. We are innocent as children, and then absent-minded students in high school, drug-crazy lovers in college, and workaholics after that. Innocence, school, and work. Then what? Then we grow old and die. I hate it. I want to change this. I want to be youthful forever. I don't think adults lose any of their youth to be honest with you. I think when they have kids and settle and have a high paying job they feel the need to be responsible adults. I'm never going to do that though. I will always be young. I like reading the journals of people in their mid thirties because they write much differently than they talk. They write like kids. They refer to their husbands so objectively. I want to write and live like that. I want to be innocent forever and not end my life when I get my job. I also want to be a Beatnik.

I was talking to this girl named Caila in my drama class about all of this today and it made me feel better. Caila is one of my favorite people in the class because she is pretty funny and went out with this kid Will for five months. Will is not charming and ended up suckering her into staying in the relationship for five months. I grew kind of angry with Caila because I wanted her to break up with him, but she never did. Anyway, so we were talking about everyone we both knew, and listed both their faults and what we liked about them. We came to this kid named Andrew, who I used to feel was as obnoxious as Christine Han, but I stopped. His modesty is amazing even though he got accepted to Penn as a Junior. I feel I'm on the same level of brilliance as he is, just that I chose to not care about school, and he chose otherwise. But he is intelligent and is not arrogant like Christine. And although he is going to end up the CEO of a big company and will work long hours, I hope he does not lose his innocence like she will. I hope no one will lose their innocence if they haven't already.

Friday night was wonderful. I was feeling particularly lonely after work so I decided to call up Dasha and watch a movie with her. We ended up watching Kill Bill part 1 because we watched the second one and it didn't make too much sense. I was very happy during the movie because there was a lot of killing and cheesy blood sequences. Afterwards we decided to go on a walk, so I took her to this park next to my house which has only has a small playground and a gazebo. And lots of grass. So we were sitting in this gazebo, and I leaned my head back and stargazed, and we talked. I was talking to myself most of the time because I felt quite delusional. Finally I felt very cold and I put my arm around her and we were quiet. And I felt infinite, which is a feeling I haven't had for a while. She laid her head against my chest and we both felt warmer. When she finally spoke, she said she could feel my heart beat and I knew in that moment that I was falling for this girl. And I'm happy that I am. I like it when it's just us, because we don't have to worry about anything. I don't like it when other people get involved in relationships because it seems like it loses its intimacy. I hope you understand what I mean.

On a side note, my dad hasn't been home since Sunday, and I am growing very irritated with him because he is probably gambling and is leaving my mother to work at the restaurant on her own. I also feel sick with myself because I don't help her and pretend to be busy. I think I am going to punch him the next time I see him.

cya.

-george

ANGSTHATESWIRLIFUCKINGAMAWAKEATFOURINTHEMORNINGDOINGGODKNOWSWHATFUCKFUCKFUCK

So I fell asleep around eight last night because my sleeping pattern has become skewed. One night I will sleep for four hours and the next night I'll fall asleep around eight or nine and wake up late for school anyway. Whenever I'm late I have to park in the school lot which usually hurts me when I'm not paying attention because I usually get thirty-five dollar tickets from a middle aged parking lot woman named Debbie. I was thinking about how pathetic I find Debbie as she is about thirty-five herself and her job is making sure kids don't leave the parking lot during lunch. I'd fuck her though.

I woke up around three thinking about college and hyperventilating as my grades have been really poor to be honest with you. I want to get into New York University, but it seems it's the twenty-fifth hardest school to get into in America. Figuring my marks are really horrible, I doubt I'll get in, although I made a promise to a girl that I would. Maybe I will. I have a reason now. Motivation. I just don't like studying for SAT's, but for some reason deep down I know I'll do really well on them. I have to, or else my goals won't be what Cavafy intended them to be.

I had a wonderful Spring Break to be honest with you. Saturday night, although quite uneventful, made me feel peaceful and made me want summer. I was supposed to go to my friend Blake's "party", but I ended up staying at Dasha's house for a few hours. She had a fever and was crying and laughing because of her said "delusion". I was laughing at this, but I couldn't understand why. We were up in her room talking about past lives and reading her old journals and things like that. I was glad that she saved a lot of her writings from when she was young, because I didn't. I wanted to forget. I wanted to numb all of those thoughts out of my head by watching TV. It's what I did. Keeping Dasha company was one of the nicest times I've had in a while because I didn't feel the need to say anything. Her brother was quiet and skinny and watched Saving Private Ryan while we drank tea.

This week has been awful. I found out that I have a C- in chemistry which is bad because I don't know if I can bring it up to a B. Maybe I'll get a tutor. It's strange - I used to refer to myself as one of the "smart kids", but now I'm just "lethargic". It's very saddening really. I just didn't have the goals or the patience to try. Teresa keeps sending me letters that I don't want to read, and I've become anxious about school. I kind of want to die when I'm twenty, but people would be mad with me about that. Suicide is selfish, really.

My eyes blurring spinning dizzy light sleep

cya

-george

I hope more than the one person writing this regrets it. Fucking. Me. We'll all float on okay. And we'll all float on anyway. Someone once told me not to sing those words out loud, but I did anyway because I thought the song was catchy. Good news, Anastasia. Good news.

I really had a good night with Dasha. We didn't really do much, but it was nice to have the company of someone who isn't full of shit, and can laugh when things are funny and understand why they're laughing. I fucked around with her when she said my car smelled like smoke.

We went to see "Kill Bill part 2", although neither of us have seen the first one. I thought it was pretty good, although I wish I saw the first part first, not because of the storyline, because the deaths look so much more hilarious. There was this one part near the end where Uma Thurman did this move that was supposed to make Bill's heart explode, but they didn't show it. I was hoping there would be more blood, but I did laugh when she ripped out a one eyed girl's remaining eye. Ha.

I saw Alan and Theresa before the movies started, and I ditched them because they couldn't get tickets. I really wished Alan had bought a ticket for himself at least, because I miss hanging out with him. I was supposed to go to his birthday party, but his girlfriend never told me the details. Well actually she did, but too long ago. Theresa looked happy to see me because apparently she is in love with me and not Victor, which makes me upset because they are both my friends. Alan just looked happy for no reason, and commented on how great my hair was. Or at least I'd like to think so.

During the movie I kept looking over at Dasha and I noticed how nice her eyes are. Not in the way that I'm obsessing over them, but in the way that I feel relieved when I look at them. Like if I continued to hang out with this girl, cigarettes wouldn't be need anymore. I shouldn't have said that figuring both her and Teresa are going to read this, and either laugh at how emo I'm sounding or feel awkward. Ha ha! Fuck them, I don't care anyway.

I called up this girl Caila when Dasha and I were at Borders pretending to be intellectuals because we were bored and needed ideas. I think we both didn't want to go home at ten. Caila was unhelpful and told me to just take Dasha to Athenian (this old school I used to take summer classes at) and look at the stars and make out. I was totally fine with this (ha ha!) but I'm sure Dasha would feel awkward. I wouldn't mind just the stars though. I remember I was sitting on a bench there when I was little because I didn't like taking Algebra in 7th grade and I saw a turkey go by and no one believed me. I wish I had a camera, I'd probably frame it somewhere.

I don't feel as great as I did a few minutes ago so I'll cut this entry short. I suddenly have a craving for caramel chocolates.

cya.

-george

Sitting here listening to Modest Mouse's latest album, Good News for people who love Bad News, makes me feel happy. My grandmother opening my door every five minutes asking me if I'm hungry is starting to make me feel unhappy. That and my mom calling me three times to tell me the same thing. I don't want to see you people so much, even if deep down I do love you.

I just got home from a mediocre start of what should be a great night. I was driving to pick up Dasha (a Russian girl who loves dirty jokes and likes Modest Mouse) and Amber (a girl in my drama class who has a very good taste in music) to go see "Goodbye Lenin" at the Cinearts Theatre in Pleasant Hill when I hear some sirens over Float On Float On. My heart sank when I saw the flashing blue and red lights in the rear view mirror, but my eyes remained upbeat. The officer was nice and asked if I had a ticket before, and if I've ever been to traffic school. I told him I went to traffic school a couple months ago for a speeding ticket. "Speeding? Hahaha!" He was a goddamn friendly guy. So after a little bit of shooting the bull, he tells me that if I don't run the stop sign again, he'll act like I just forgot to put on my seatbelt so I could be on my way. I told Dasha the story, except I used a dirty joke to substitute the whole "seatbelt" spiel. Amber's dad saw me through the window and got angry, so now we have to sneak her out of her house and watch the movie at 10.

I hung out with Dasha for the first time yesterday in Berkeley, which was nice. We went clothes shopping with her and a couple of her friends, which kind of got boring because girls take a long time and I lose interest. It was pretty funny when I was offering their leftover pizza to the elite indie teenagers walking in Urban Outfitters though. The lesbian with the short blonde hair who asked if I was fucking around at the register made me want to cry though. I found this great At the Drive In shirt which in turn made my eyes sparkle.

Dasha and I were making plans to get coffee when this black woman who was corpulent and sold hats stopped us and explained to us how she wasn't black. I was kind of smiling the whole time, but after ten minutes or so I kind of wanted to run away. So, after about another half an hour of lecturing about how racist America has become, I took Dasha's arm and made her run away with me. You could hear the lady yelling, "Oh look, they're running away!". I really wanted to buy a hat from her because she seemed nice, but then she started to feed us lines like she knew 465 languages and that she lived with Bob Marley.

I ended up watching "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" after I got home with my mother. It was a little too artsy with a few unneeded characters, and the lighting in the entire movie was horrible, but all in all I enjoyed it. Jim Carrey's acting was better than I thought it would be, compared to other movies of his. My tears were ending near the end, and right when I got in my car I called up Dasha and asked her to get some coffee with me, like I've known her for years but never spoke a word to her. What was going on?

I feel lovely and sad. I'm a six, Philip Dick. I'm a fucking six and you know it.

cya.

-george

I just feel that some people need to know how I really feel on this entire subject. I don't care what anyone else thinks, I just feel I need to at least admit it to myself.

I really liked her to be honest with you. I never said one word to her, but every time I saw her at school I was always thinking how pretty I thought she was and how sweet of a girl she was. As it turns out, she really was a sweet girl, and I was a total jackass to her. I fucking didn't care about her emotions just so I could cover up the secret that I was really into someone I didn't even know.

I read a few of her poems. They killed me. Both in the humorous way and in the other way. She reminded me of Teresa, and in fact, she still does. I'm kind of glad she's mad at me though, maybe both her and Teresa, because then I can't do shit like this again.

Basically, I pretend to be someone I wasn't, and this girl who is very depressed and emotional thought I was in love with her. A complete, ugly stranger who was into what she was into was in love with her. And paid attention to her. And was happy every time he saw her. Maybe I didn't feel all of those things, but I think I thought them and meant them at one point. Her friend asked her if I loved her and I got a headache and I said yes and I ended up making everyone think I really was. So I had to cover it up. I just had to. I was already after another girl.

The real thing that just upsets me about this entire thing is that me and her probably would've become really good friends if I wasn't being such an absent minded jackass. I blame the cigarettes, but I know better than that because I've done stuff like this before. Whatever, is all I'm going to say.

Her hair is still pretty to me. Not just that, either. Everything. Teresa told me to say, "I've fallen to her", and I told all my friends I was going to, but deep down I couldn't. I couldn't let her know it was all a hoax. I knew how upset this girl would be. I know how her self esteem would just drop into the shitter. I feel neutral right now, but I know it's wrong. I'm going to smoke another cigarette after this.

This girl Amber who knew everything told me to tell her it was a joke and then do this little dance I do to cheer her up immediately right after. I saw the girl and saw how embarassed she looked, and I just couldn't. I was worried she would find out. I was unhappy. I was frustrated for the first time in a while.

So now I'm here, sitting in my room thinking about what I've been doing the past couple of days and it's seriously making me upset. I really am the kid she thought I was, even though I don't like to admit it sometimes.

"3rd Planet"- Modest Mouse

I need a fucking bottle of vodka.

Choking.
Sweat on my neck and forehead
Tell me air
Is escaping.
Tossed the cigarette
Against the hard brick
Of the good wall.
Deep down
I wanted the ash
to burn my fingers.
My lungs begged.
Stop.
Stop.
My throat begged.
Stop.
Stop.
I can't help but say
I'm sorry
As my last
Breath
Fades away.

My dad has only taught me two things in my entire lifetime. Don't do drugs or get a girl pregnant. In a lot of ways, he's pretty damn smart about it.

I went to another Mars Volta concert on Saturday night. To be honest, I was a little disappointed since they didn't play three hours like last time, but I had fun anyway. I ended up taking my friend Gavin because I figured he would love it just like I loved my first Mars Volta concert. The music was inspirational, although I couldn't see Cedric most of the time. I felt very small in the crowd, looking at the backs of people's heads and feeling my ribs being crushed by massive elbows. The audience was really too big. A Perfect Circle was playing, and I don't really like them, but a lot of people do. I got really mad at the people who kept saying that Mars Volta "wasn't that good" and that a Perfect Circle would be way more awesome. I wanted to punch them in the face actually. Not only was a Perfect Circle not that good, they had nowhere near the energy that Mars Volta had. Nowhere near the amount of marijuana smoke either.

Blaise and I had a few cigarettes inside the auditorium when Mars Volta stopped playing and the lights were off.

I was looking at a female friend of mine today, and I was getting kind of upset because I could see mascara crust on her face that I've never seen before. Her eyes weren't as pretty either. And her overalls were just horrible. I wanted to invite Robert Frost over and ask him to tell her to go fuck herself. If I had a child named Silus, I'd throw him in the toilet.

I'm kind of disappointed with myself. I had this history project due today. We basically had to read any non-fiction book written about something epic in the 20th century and write a report on it. I'm glad I took English Honours because I never would have been able to bullshit it without the writing skills I have developed. I'm sure I'll either get an A or an F on it because he's biased towards girls. I don't blame him. I'd probably be biased towards them too.

The girl who I was talking about in my English class was really bugging me again today. I'll just call her Annie because I hate that name. So Annie was sitting there with her onion shaped head and her "fashionable" sunglasses talking to this goth kid named Dustin. I really have nothing against him, he's just really quiet and wears eyeliner sometimes. I think he thinks highly of himself because he "doesn't need to get good grades" and writes poetry in his spare time. His sister is a friend of mine though.

I've been noticing that I keep saying that I hate something or someone and not really mean it. I mean, I suppose I dislike a lot of things, but I don't think I hate anything. Well, maybe the sick feeling I get when I see a cat made of manna on the side of the road. I really do think I have a high standard for what I like nowadays. Not that it matters.

Anyway, when I think of something better to say, I'll write to you really soon. For now, here's an essay I wrote on "Death of a Hired Man" by Robert Frost. I'm sure you can find it if you look hard enough.

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George Ha
Per 4

The Death Of The Hired Man
As life passes us by, friends, character, and appearances change by circumstance. However, family is consistently there through both our highs and our lows. Despite troubles and misunderstandings between family members, we have come to depend on home as a place we may go for support, for shelter, and as a place where we are needed. However author Robert Frost presents in his poem, The Death Of The Hired Man, that family is not always supportive, but instead can push away those who have come to rely on it, and although other family members may welcome and love and understand, it is the ones who push us away that are truly wanted in our lives. Frost compares and contrasts two main sides of family – those who take us in despite their true feelings, and those who turn their backs on us because of their true feelings.
Warren and Mary’s characters are resolute throughout the entire piece. Mary plays the mother figure, representing the side of family willing to accept and love members of her family, no matter what they have done, or how she truly feels about them. She does not judge Silus, but rather sympathizes with him, speaking of only the good truths about his character. Warren on the other hand plays the more harsh, truthful, down to earth father figure. He, unlike Mary, does not sympathize with Silus, treating him more as a burden on himself and the farm rather than a family member. Warren deprecates Silus, asking questions like, “What good is he? Who else will harbor him at his age for the little he can do?” Although Silus is older than him, Warren acts pretentiously towards Silus, treating him like an inadequate waif, undeserving of a good home.
Although Mary is nothing but kind towards Silus, he insists on winning over Warren instead. Mary “tries to make him (Silus) smoke” but instead, Silus nods off and says little to her. Yet, when Silus asks Warren for pay, he asks for just “enough to buy tobacco with”, as though he would rather work for a smoke, than to be offered a kind pipe without doing anything to deserve it. Silus desires the compassion of someone who thinks he is worthless rather than the compassion of someone who loves him. Human nature dictates, showing that we desire what we can’t have, rather than accepting the love that is forever there.
Mary says later in the piece that “home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in,” in an attempt to persuade Warren to let Silus stay, pleading with Warren that as family, they are obligated to offer Silus a home. However, Warren replies that he “should have called it (home) something you somehow haven’t to deserve,” saying that Silus has done nothing to earn his keep, and in turn, he is not obligated to let him stay. Silus feels worthless, always trying to lift himself higher than he is. Yet, he must have heard Mary and Warren arguing, as his heart seemed to be broken when Warren went to check on him.

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