Be bold hence

I want to include some poetry in this entry. I'm going to start with two that Darcy wrote with the magnets in the Jacobson's house, that I really enjoyed so I copied them down.

"shadow and storm beneath the moon
black rain was near beauty
frantically fall then soar in life
true loves stare like mist"

and

"his vision whispers music
I dream of symphonies
we sing for eternity"

Yay for Darcy. You're my hero.
You know, I'm going to rant for a minute about the Planet of the Apes, the new one. I did not enjoy it at all. Ok, the music was good, what I could remember of it. Which would be, like, the overture. But the rest of the movie was ridiculous. Sure, the makeup was amazing, but the acting wasn't, and the story? My goodness. There was no story. Fifteen minutes into the movie I was completely bored but somehow felt obligated (but what force I'm not sure) to finish watching it. There was no plot. No story line. The humans could talk? What was that all about? When it got to the end I wasn't surprised or even entertained at all. When they found out how the apes became intelligent I was just like, "oh. That was stupid." I didn't care about the characters at all. What about the old ones? I mean, come on, I cried when Cornelius and Zira died. I cheered when the apes took over the city. I felt something. Those movies are amazing. Pure genius. I kind of want to watch them again. Well, not really. But they are incredible.

And oh, the glories of public transportation. I took the bus to the BART station, and then took BART to Hayward, and then another bus up to the university so that I could watch a little musical theatre dealio with my mother. It was fun. And relatively easy. But at the moment, I'm bored, so someone call me. I can't think of anything else to say, nothing deep or spiritual or enlightening. So I'd like to close with a poem that I just wrote with the refridgerator magnet words. Love to all! Shalom

"to her he was but an angel
she sings his joy and screams his pain
morose as she observed his form and hers
fingers copulated
together they create a wax dream
a silhouette of music though she loves him
I am their lachrymose sleep"