Sonnet 8

Oranges, they are just totes delish. I love them so much. A bit hard to peel, but very much worth the effort for the sweet treasure within. (The tiny ones like Cuties are not quite as wonderful)

Today I was doing school at my neighbor's house while her kids slept and she and her husband were at the doctor's office. (I think that is where they were) I was reading a book as quickly as I could. I had to bust out 20 chapters today. (Not quite done yet.) I read from about 7:15 until about  11:00. I read 18 chapters. (I suppose that is really slow. I am no speed reader.) While reading, I had this strange thought. After I finish cramming all of this knowledge into my mind (A week's worth of history every 1-2 days) I do not know what I will do with myself. Even now, when I take a break because my eyes are too tired to read another word, I crave more. I am going to be so mentally bored after all of this. I think I will read Bill Nye's new book that I heard about on the news. I am sure that will entertain me. Show me what the atheist believes. Perhaps I will listen to his debates with Ken Ham. Perhaps I will devote all of my now free time to writing. That would be a pleasant thing. 

Recently, a young fellow (probably about 16 years old) has adopted me as his confidante, his place to vent his frustrations. I am not sure how I feel about this, so as long as he keeps his language clean, I will let him vent. I find it strange that he trusts me; he hardly knows me. I hope that by venting he is able to just let all of this go, I don't want negative emotions to take over and completely ruin him. (I have met people like that) 

Yesterday I asked the head lifeguard (The one with the nice beard, who intends to be my boss next year) if he knows my name. He said that Mr. Tangerine Speedo (That is what I am nicknaming the one that was my instructor.) and one that I met at driver's ed know my name. I was like well yeah, another one knows my name too. (I gave her my number) In short, the head guard does not know my name. I know his name though. (He cussed with surprise.) I left without telling him my name. (I like a bit of mystery.) Now I will give you a poem. Let's see.... I will make it right now. (10 minutes later) Actually I will have to post it tomorrow. Someone is telling me to hurry up. (You cannot rush art.) Um, lets see. Sonnet 8 then.

Music to hear, why hear'st thou music sadly?

Sweets with sweets war not, joy delights in joy:

Why lov'st thou that which thou receiv'st not gladly,

Or else receiv'st with pleasure thine annoy?

If the true concord of well-tuned sounds,

By unions married do offend thine ear,

They do but sweetly chide thee, who confounds

In singleness the parts that thou shouldst bear:

Mark how one string sweet husband to another,

Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;

Resembling sire, and child, and happy mother,

Who all in one, one pleasing note do sing:

Whose speechless song being many, seeming one,

Sings this to thee, 'Thou single wilt prove none'.

Why does the music make you sad?

Sweets do not fight with sweets, joy delights in joy

Why do you love what makes you sad?

Or do you enjoy receiving what annoys you?

If good music

By unions created (married...wink wink nudge nudge)

They do gently chide you, who surprises

In singleness the parts you should bear

See how one string is the husband of another

Strikes each in each by mutual ordering

Resembling father, son and happy mother

Who all together sing a pleasing note

Whose speechless song sung by many (voices) sounds as one

Sings to you, "If you stay single, you will only last one generation."

Sorry my post was late again. I do not think I have to babysit tomorrow. Have a good day.