SEVERN: The grass is wet...



Last night my daddy told me that I write like Jack Kerouac and It made me very happy.

In revision of my summer so far, I can predict that all it will amount to is the feeling of wind through unwashed, knotty hair whilst riding a crappy bicycle and hives from overexposure to the sun and dry grass. Seem exciting? Not at all. Seem like the idealistic summer I had planned? Frankly, yes. I'm beginning to think that I set myself up for this bland holiday, but that news is greeted with a very blasé, unmoved, apathetic Severn.

This entry is mainly because my father told me what I mentioned first-off, but also of a bought of insomnia and movie-watching. Thankfully due to writing this entry, I was treated with the sight of a lightening night sky, reminding me of how the sun will rise soon. Now, with that thought I am faced with the decision to either A) finish off this entry and sleep, or B) find other useless things to do until the sun is due to rise (I'll check the approximate time of rising on www.accuweather.com) and then feast my eyes upon it. Of course, the major con to plan B is going a night without sleep and for not good reason other than to see the sun rise. But REALLY, should I be ashamed of such hedonism? It's MY summer, for Christ's sake.

The sun will rise at 5:08 AM today, Friday the 27th (Wow, 27th already?) of June. (Thankfully it is not July yet...)



"I'll tell you about punk rock: punk rock is a word used by dilettantes and ah... and ah... heartless manipulators about music that takes up the energies and the bodies and the hearts and the souls and the time and the minds of young men who give what they have to it and give everything they have to it and it's a... it's a term that's based on contempt, it's a term that's based on fashion, style, elitism, satanism and everything that's rotten about rock 'n roll. I don't know Johnny Rotten but I'm sure... I'm sure he puts as much blood and sweat into what he does as Sigmund Freud did. You see, what sounds to you like a big load of trashy old noise is in fact the brilliant music of a genius, myself. And that music is so powerful that it's quite beyond my control and ah... when I'm in the grips of it I don't feel pleasure and I don't feel pain, either physically or emotionally. Do you understand what I'm talking about? Have you ever felt like that? When you just couldn't feel anything and you didn't want to either.? You know, like that? Do you understand what I'm saying, sir?"
Iggy Pop, CBC interview



Interested in:
- Harmony Korine
- Nick Drake

Disinterested in:
- Uninteresting people.
(That's all.)

Now, for a much anticipated update on my lozenge situation:
While reckless, I dumbly decided to take off the wrappers on all the lozenges because all I was picking up were the stupid flavours: Honey-lemon and eucalyptus. I yearned to find another cranberry or blackcurrant. So I take off all of these wrappers to find I have 40 undesirably flavoured lozenges and only 4 good-tasting lozenges.
I made a pyramid of them on my coffee table. It was rather impressive until I dumbly wrecked it.

I am not happy.



Right now I'm munching on lozenges. I couldn't decide which flavor I wanted, so I bought every flavour of bentasil possible. I then emptied all the packets into a bowl so each time I grab for a lozenge it is a suprise!
... Too bad I always tend to grab for either a eucalyptus one or a honey-lemon one. I am not fond of either those flavors and I'd much rather prefer a cranberry or grape one.

I'm going on the Spain-France-Holland trip with my school in spring break 2009. I'm pretty excited. Most of the places we're going, I have been before... But thankfully they were my favorite places of my first Europe trip in 2005.

Le Grand Serge's "Ballade de Johnny-Jane" encapsulates my current mood.
Check it ouuut.



Last night was incredibly juvenile yet especially fun.
Thank goodness only three photos of hundreds were of me,
dressed in my skintight purple dress. Theme parties rule.
Surreal. "Did that actually just happen?"
Somewhere between the mystique and the beauty of life, you find meaning.

Now I am sitting on the couch, munching on kettle korn and watching The Secret Garden.
O Great World! The wonders of thou!



Bring tea for the tillerman, steak for the sun
Wine for the women who made the rain come
Seagulls, sing your hearts away
'Cause while the sinners sin, the children play
Oh lord how they play and play for that happy day!

Crosby, Stills and Nash tonight!
Can't express how excited I am for this!