It's late...

Here is the time right now... 3:09... A.M. I just finished working on all the homework I haven't done for the past few weeks. I am hating AP world history vocabulary's "Significance." Anyways, I finally got my iPod back, and at the moment, I'm listening to Green Day's Boulevard of Broken Dreams. It's a kinda depressing song.

Anyways, onto the actual post. The class has been kinda depressing. We've been talking about death, and stories that include death in them. The short story we are currently reading is "And of Clay We are Made." The story is about a news reporter, whose name is Rolf Carle ( there is an accent over the e, but I can't find the button... D: ), and a girl named Azucena, which means Lily in Spanish. She is stuck in the rubble and muck after the volcanic eruption. Rolf tries to help her get out of the mud, when he has a flashback to his own childhood, during the era of World War II, when the Russians took his family to bury the dead. I really don't want to ruin the ending for anyone who hasn't finished the story yet, so I'll stop here. Goodnight... It may be early morning, but I am going to bed now, after working from 9 A.M. yesterday.