I just got done reading The Heart of the Matter by Graham Greene for my American Lit class. Now, usually I'll read a book for class and be like "well that kind of sucked" and then go on a rant about how just because something's old doesn't mean it's a classic. But that book is seriously one of the best books I've ever read. It's slow in parts but the ending is incredibly powerful, and probably the best look at suicide that I've ever seen. It's not gory, but it's incredibly passionate. Really goes through what a suicidal person must feel before he does the deed. Beyond that scene and the preceding scenes of a man's complete and utter mental breakdown, it's an incredible look at faith, in this case the Catholic faith. Not my favorite group on the whole, as some of you know. But this book painted them in such a human light that even I was touched. At the end the wife and the priest are talking, and it goes like this:
"It's no good even praying..."
Father Rank clapped the cover of the diary to and said furiously "For goodness' sake, Mrs Scobie, don't imagine you - or I - know a thing about God's mercy."
"The church says..."
"I know the Church says. The Church knows all the rules. But it doesn't know what goes on in a single human heart."

I don't know if that means anything without reading the book, but I wholeheartedly recommend it. It's beautifully written and terribly powerful.

Other than that, school is going to kind of suck this semester. I can't remember spanish enough to take the class I'm in. And... poetry is full of poetry people. And if you're reading this, and you know any poetry people, you hate them. That's just how it is. Those people suxorz. They're pretentious little art fucks who think they're better than you because they know all these big words no one ever uses, and they think that all because
something is
written
like this
that it is something
special

Fuckers.

Anyway, my car's going back into the shop tomorrow. If I can get it to run long enough to get it home from the shop with no problems I'd look into selling it. If I could only ride a bike 65 miles an hour, I'd swear off cars forever. I'll hopefully be moving in with Danny this weekend. That'll be a load off my mind. I've been kind of beat down recently because of all this shit, but I'd like to give a shout out to Eric, who can't read this because he doesn't have his computer hooked up to the internet, for helping me out through this more than anyone else (except Leslie). He's calmed me down on more than one occasion, let me play Goldeneye with him, and gone to a concert with me. Yay Eric. And Yay Leslie. And even though it's his damn fault this living thing is going on, Yay Charlie. And Yay Danny for letting me move in with him. And Yay Cam for being Cam. And I think that's all the Yays I have for today.

I thought I was running out of clothes but then I realized Leslie just put my shirts on the other side of the closet. It was like striking gold, I don't have to do laundry for another week.

I think I'm going to sell a lot of my CDs soon. I have too many to even be close to fitting in my cases. But we'll see how that goes. Probably not well. I always scan for CDs I don't need anymore but then I always find one good song that makes me not want to sell the CDs. But I know I have some I'll never listen to again. So if the car starts working I'll do that.

Armchair Martian was really good the other night. Chad didn't play bass for them, it was some goofy tall guy who sung like four songs. Three unreleased songs, I think, and the other one was 17 Years. So maybe they're getting back together? That'd be cool. Though I'm not a big fan of that new singer of theirs, and Jon didn't have any new songs. But whatever. They need to put out a new album, that's all I'm saying. Until nextime.