Man, I feel like a Whitman.

Having a discussion in English class today, I discovered that many people do not find any point in Walt Whitman's works. Dude. Those are my works. I write like Whitman, as some of these blog entries prove true. I guess then I'm not destined for such popularity as a poet or writer. I'll just stick with my day job: pissed off teenager. I wrote a poem the other day and I thought I posted it, but it didn't post. It was about burning my insides. I think I was listening to angry music at the time...hmm...Well, today as I was listening to my EMO CD that I burned (want a copy?), the song, "Pride War" came on. That song rocks. Anyway, so I was listening to the song...and I thought of words. The words jumbled together and a poem resulted in my head. Wanna see it? If you don't, don't' scroll down, skip the rest of this entry. Don't like Whitman, I don't care. P.S. I can't believe I missed that Ultimate Fakebook show downtown on Saturday...I hate myself, I hate myself, I hate myself.

nyeh...i'm not in the mood for poetry. Gotta go read that damn Oprah Book Club book for that damn English class. Later all.