when it rains, it pours.

euro midterm tomorrow, therefore a long night lies ahead. not really feeling european history, but it's a pre-req so it must be done...so i can get my diploma in history....and go to grad school or law school....and get a job that doesn't pay as well as, say, a science/math degree....and be poor. blah.

poetry for the people - cool idea, but kinda lame in practice...true the lectures are interesting from time to time, especially when they deal with political issues (palestine, for example), but man...analyzing poetry in little quiet circles...i think the silence gets to me. with the slam team, everyone's loud, giving props with hella critiques...maybe it's cuz this is my first glimpse at poetry in a classroom setting (outside of high school, which was bullshit, cuz it dealt just with shakespeare and nothing but shakespeare). idk. some of the student teacher poets are kinda shady, they got these big pseudo-poetic-liberal egos and whatnot (except for a few who are more than cool), which exists anywhere, but these cats represent the creative side of berkeley, and for them to be all up on themselves instead of the ideas of poetry....i guess it's better to have p4p than to have nothing. i'm kinda disappointed, because last spring i thought it was gonna be the shit, the best class ever, but history 7b still holds that title.

this entry is too long

i've been having flashbacks of "the good ol days" of the inland empire. skateboarding around the suburbs when i was 12/13, thinkin about whatever happened to dustin messenger and justin therrien, the hijinx, the b-boy battles, all that shit....i just start to remember these things from the past all of a sudden. this happenned my first semester here as well. crazy.

regret occurs for a reason.