We are small but we are many, we are many we are small

I thought once how Theocritus had sung
Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,
Who each one in a gracious hand appears
To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,
I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
Those of my own life, who by turns had flung
A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware,
So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move
Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair:
And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, --
"Guess now who holds thee?" "Death," I said. But, there,
The silver answer rang, "Not Death, but Love."

Aggghhhh. High school is devouring my soul. It doesn't help that freshmen are only a little above dirt in the ranking.

I have so many projects and essays that I'm not even remotely interested in... *head'asplode*

And my science class is crap. The teacher can't explain anything. People are failing that class already. I also feel terrible because I'm probably getting a horrid science education anyways, being in the U.S. and all.

And that is my whiny post for the day. *sniffle*

My insatiable lust for blogs has driven me to get a Vox. I probably won't use it that often, although I'll almost certainly use it more than the hell-hole known as MySpace (cue shudders from the non-existent audience). I don't know that many people on here, but oh well. Exploring it will give me something to do on a dark, grey day.