Cho Chang

Fri, 25 Mar 2005 02:04:41 GMT

I just checked my balance at Gringott's, and I think someone accidentally transferred 9,372 Galleons into my account. If any of you are missing 9,372 Galleons, we should go to Hogsmeade to straighten this out.

There's not much to do. I was supposed to go to a Stars and Stuff lesson, but it was cancelled. Apparently, a freak cosmic cloud has descended over the stars and stuff we were meant to observe.

Oh, look, here comes a brand new broomstick flying through my window for no particular reason. That's interesting.

Wed, 19 Jan 2005 06:23:19 GMT

... Yo

So, uh, I'm not going to write poetry anymore, because that's just stupid. Yeah.

Earlier today, I was eating nachos, and scratching my bum, thinking about Quidditch, and I had the most awesome burp ever. It was awesome, yo.

Who can help me with this goddamn thing that is too fucking small and itches like a mother?

Sun, 02 Jan 2005 23:35:40 GMT

Must classes resume tomorrow?

Sat, 25 Dec 2004 15:47:45 GMT

Oh, how distressing. The world progressively darkens as our wisps of lives swirl around, unknowing, in this tornado of unhappiness and failure.

This photograph does not do the horror that has betaken my family justice. My Muggle cousins Tiffany and Calvin, how I weep for their innocence stolen, those young sprites of yesteryear.

Witness the most depressing eyes of the fiendish creature. His skull does not hold sufficient room for tear ducts, yet he proverbially weeps at his deformities. Oh, tragedy!

I feel it is my moral as well as familial duty to spell away this monstrosity. Should I not return, know that my depressing life truly did have no significance whatsoever.

Sun, 19 Dec 2004 21:39:30 GMT

I had thought that sleeping after last week's dreadfulness would have been soothing, but I should have known that there is never any solace to be found. The darkness of the world is perhaps magnified in the somnolent state.

The holiday spirit, I suppose, is meant to be uplifting, but it is rather bleak and dull if one scrutinizes it closely enough. There is, however, a great deal of chocolate to be consumed.

Sun, 07 Nov 2004 17:40:52 GMT

Sun, 12 Sep 2004 18:18:35 GMT

my depression
is like
the sea
it is

d
e
e
p

and

big

Wed, 11 Aug 2004 20:14:28 GMT

Friends, classmates, professors, lend me your ears;
I write not to ease myself, but to talk to you;
The evil of You-Know-Who lives after him;
The good Cedric Diggory lies in the grave,
So let the Dark Lord be satisfied. Dumbledore...
Hath told you that Cedric was a Hufflepuff:
And it was so, pride of the House,
And grievously have they let him go.
Here, with my laptop and lovely verse,
(For You-Know-Who is very powerful,
So are the Death Eaters, all powerful)
Type I to speak of Cedric Diggory...
He was my love, faithful and just to me,
But You-Know-Who says that he was a spare,
And You-Know-Who is rather powerful,
He hath flown many times in Quidditch,
His successes did the Huffle house points fill.
Did this in Cedric seem like a spare?
When that I was upset, Cedric hath listened:
Spares should be made insensitive gits.
Yet You-Know-Who says he was a spare;
And You-Know-Who is rather evil.
You all did see that in the Quidditch game
He caught the Snitch before Harry Potter,
Yet he asked a rematch: was this unimportant?
Yet You-Know-Who says he was a spare;
And sure, the Dark Lord is powerful.
I write not to disclose what You-Know-Who spoke,
But here I am to write of my boyfriend.
I love him still, and not without cause:
What cause is there worthy enough?
O Cedric! Thou art no longer living,
And I have grieved long and hard. Bear with me...
My eyes fill with tears of sorrow,
And I leave for now to have a cry.

Wed, 04 Aug 2004 06:15:19 GMT

I was sitting in my room and thinking about Hogwarts and how it is really a microcosm of society -- its pitfalls (broken stairs) and treachery (disguised walls) earlier today. My thoughts inspired me to write a poem.

untitled, by cho chang

a penguin
is greyscale
but is its
blood not red
like all
others
why does the
snow still
fall white
when the world
is coloured
in a bright
spectrum

I wonder if I should use a penname while writing. I feel that perhaps using my legal name constricts the creative flow. It would be a tragedy, of course, to handicap myself while writing in any way.

Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival.

Sat, 24 Jul 2004 15:52:22 GMT

Cedric is here. Did everyone see? Can anyone help him? He needs help, I think. Cedric?

This parchment shortage does not surprise me. I always knew the world was a terrible place. Everyone is against me, and nobody understands.

They sent me my letter on the skin of a cod. Don't think I didn't notice that those are Cedric's initials. Your plan to hurt me even more has not succeeded. It's not as if I don't think of him all the time, anyways.

I'm Head Girl for next year. All this responsibility. I'm going to go write poetry.