Caveat: on being unscary

I was yelling at my HS1-T cohort the other day, as is so often my wont these days.

It's a very frustrating group of students – a collection of obstreperous, very smart but extremely rebellious 6th and 7th grade girls (yes, all girls – by some grave misfortune).

So I was yelling. The standard stuff: please focus on your work and quit talking about your favorite pop star idols; please speak English during class; please do your homework, next time. 

Maybe the "pleases" were getting thin on the ground. I was pretty annoyed.

One girl (whom I won't name) said, "You know, you're not very good at being scary."

I sat down, deflated.

"I know," I sighed. The girls all had a laugh, and went on their merry way.


What I'm listening to right now.

Communist Daughter, "Soundtrack To The End"

Lyrics.

You put on a pretty face
And we never saved our money
And then we got stuck in place
And I lost my milk and honey

And all the songs were new
And they broke our hearts in two
While we walked away
So I just pushed on through
And I made my muscles move
'Cause I could never say

And all our hearts were breaking
There was music all around
And the walls were always shaking
'Cause our love was the sound
Our love was the sound

We took six of one
And nothing from the dozen
I guess I'll never need another hand to stay awake
Oh, get me right up to the brink
I'll break one way or other

Some of the best of us are already home
Still singing softly through the stereo
Although we tried to make the only amends
Now it's just a soundtrack to the end

And all the songs were new
And they broke our hearts in two
But we still walked away
So I just pushed on through
And I made my muscles move
So I don't have to say
That it's not right to carry on
It might be old but she isn't gone
And you never listened anyway

All our hearts were breaking
There was music all around
And the walls were always shaking
'Cause our love was the sound
Our love was the sound

And all our hearts were breaking
There was music all around
And the walls were always shaking
'Cause our love was the sound

[daily log: walking, 7km]

Caveat: Random Poem #89

(Poem #390 on new numbering scheme)

You grasp at meanings with mind's fingers spread
out wide like wind-blown nets to try to catch
the semiotic objects which you hope
to understand. In this you mostly fail.
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