Caveat: Ghost Man

What I'm listening to right now.

Bush, "Headful of Ghosts." Lyrics:

I stand around at American weddings
I stand around for family
At my best when I'm terrorist inside
At my best when it's all me

I was there when they took all the people
I was alone in a mental ravine
You breathe life when you break the walls down
You breathe life when you set me free

Where is my head
Where are my bones
Why are my days so far from home?
Where is my head?
Where are my bones?
Can you save me from myself?

Free thinking renegade social
Missed the moon, the man and now
In a slipstream of my possibilities?
I got the boat so we don't drown
These are the days that are split down the middle
No words to calm me down
Be sure that what you dream of
Won't come to hunt you out

Where is my head?
Where are my bones?
Why are my days so far from home?
Ghost man
Where is my head?
Where are my bones?
How come we get so lost?
Ghost man
Where is my head?
Where are my bones?
Can you save me from myself?
Can you save me from myself?

I stand around at American weddings
I stand around for family
At my best when I'm terrorist inside
At my best when it's all me

Ghost man
How come we get so lost?
Ghost man

Where is my head?
Where are my bones?
Why are my days so far from home?
Ghost man
Where is my head?
Where are my bones?
How come we get so lost?
Ghost man
Where is my head?
Where are my bones?
Can you save me from myself?
Can you save me from myself?

I like this song. It makes me think of my years living in L.A. – which were rough years, in some respects. We get nostalgic about even difficult times. I am a ghost man.

Caveat: Acting

pictureBecause today was the last day of regular class for the middle-schoolers (due to upcoming test-prep time, again – AGAIN!), we played some games in the “good” classes.

We were playing a version of the mafia game (a commercial version called Lupus in Tabula, Korean edition), which requires that the students dissumlate or “act” as I call it. They have to pretend they are not the ware-wolf, or pretend to know who the wolf is, etc.

After getting “killed” several times early in the game, one girl said, “I think I’m a good actor, but I think I’m not.” This was terribly funny, for some reason. It was pretty accurate, too – her confidence on how to the play the game was outstripping her “poker face.”

Anyway, it was fun. And now I will miss the middle schoolers, again.

[Daily log: walking, 3 km]

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