Eleventy one kinda sucks... a lot.

oh well.. first tournament. I was happy, or at least satisfied with the front nine.. and then the back nine went to shit. hazards galore, and three putts all around.

I've been reading Brief Lives chapter by chapter (if you couldn't tell by my last post.. or if you're sneaky, the title of my post before that) I have to say he's just a genius- with plot, and words, and ideas. Neil's one of those writers that makes me think i'm unworthy to even try to write and at the same time, he makes me want to do it even more.

My parents have begun to tell me where to go and what to study again. No, I don't want to be a doctor. Yes, there's still a possibility of me going to New York if I get in to Columbia. No, I don't care that some girl got murdered and wrapped in mailing tape (weird) in the city. She was probably being dumb and walking alone at night anyway. And finally, no I don't care if I'm financially stable or not.

I can't write poetry. Its not in me. really I can't...

I need to call my sisters more often. They always call us.

I heard my first good sermon in 7 months today. yay for the church finally noticing the youth group. not yay for the Korean ministry stealing/ jacking up all of our equipment and not yay for them painting our room poorly/thecolor of peasoup puke.

I've always loved stars. even to the point of looking up while driving and swerving onto the other side of the street (only in neighborhoods) too bad I don't have a moonroof in my car. and with that, some words from Neil:

"I like the stars. Its the illusion of permanence, I think. I mean, they're always flaring up and caving in and going out. But from here, I can pretend... I can pretend that things last. I can pretend that lives last longer than moments."