Lyrics and Grammar

"It don't break even..." - The Script

Every single time I hear that song on the radio (because I would not choose to listen to it willingly) I notice how it bugs me that that lyric is grammatically incorrect. What the singer is saying is "it do not break even", when he meant to say "it does not break even".

There are many songs that have incorrect grammar and I can't help but think of the songwriter as lazy. Some of the songs are songs that I enjoy, but the student inside me is mentally correcting the lyrics.

Wide Open Lines

I feel sometimes that I think too much. That I am too curious and that I ask too many "life" questions. What do people think behind closed doors. A few of these pondering questions to myself are okay, but some days I get buried underneath until I feel my brain is buried deep in endless answers; until I feel I cannot grasp onto reality. These are the moments I can feel drastically creative or oppositely silly and dull. Having a friend at this point might make these times feel real and more substantial. Fail. So, it is Blogger I turn to in hopes my words may be read and at the very most have a positive impact on another. I can dream, can I not?

A Square-Like Circle

There is an invisible line dividing the poor and the wealthy, the snotty and the bums. This invisible line marks a division of unofficial territory--the East and the West. When crossing into either of these areas, it is easy to spot differences that mark where you are at.

Driving along, following slightly under the speed limit, there are several big, gas-guzzling SUV's that swerve impatiently behind you, inching closer to your bumper in hopes that their lack of patience will make you drive faster. When you do not give in to the uncomfortable cat-and-mouse game, the prominent SUV dangerously swerves around you and then flies down the road and out of sight. There are no waving neighbors, no warm, welcoming smiles to greet another. This cold, bitter place is the East territory. The wealthy make their income known with flashy vehicles, wardrobes, and unnecessary finger and toenail art.

A ways away from the East side is the West side-a completely different area. Beat up, rusted clunkers take over the roads and are owned by those that feel the need to be defensive over their social and economic status. Their eyes are darting and staring to catch anyone who comes in close contact with their personal space.