"If they give you ruled paper, write the other way." -Juan Ramon Jiminez

Tuesday, March 15, 2005

The Return of Icarus

It's funny how when you're up in the game, you'll always be up in the game. Especially so when you stop appreciating what it is you've got.

I went without my car for a week, and I realized how much I've come to rely on it as an extension of myself. For a week, I felt very much like a different person. And of course the same week you lose part of yourself, you're going to have girl troubles. That's the rule.

No car, no girl. No money, either, because there's no way to cash a paycheck if you can't get to the bank. No real need for money either, because you're only buying lunch when your friends take you out. Of course, if you need to go to the library or study with someone, you can't either, because you have no way to get there half the time. No way out. Every day you get home and you ask yourself that oh-so-cliche question "Dude Dad where's my car?" And life is so passive as a passenger.

To assuage my troubles, I traveled into the city with Myles (fresh with a new girlfriend and car) and Vin (a pimp) to rediscover our past (as Myles and I seem to do from time to time, although this allusion is a diversion, and it's been said that irrelevant diversions are never included in effective writing). Public transportation is an even bigger let down. Especially public transportation that won't let you keep a connection with your girl for more than two minutes at a time, so you can't sort out your troubles. Somehow the art was not nearly as good as I remembered it being in 2004. Last year, there was a dog wearing a penis on his head. This year, we stood around contemplating perpetual motion for a solid three minutes.

I think I fucking cried that day.

There's something so poetic about a single tear.


But that's such a faggy thing to write.

And then the one week anniversary of helplessness comes around again.
When you're down in the game, you feel like you'll always be down in the game. Funny how that works.

..and then you wake up and it's been a week, and the door clips or something are still broken and you're feeling pretty hopeless. And your day is hopeless. least, my day was hopeless until school ended, and she and I sat down and had a good solid discussion, and sorted out our problems. And I came home and my car was back in the driveway, freshly painted, as if nothing happened. So I came inside, took off my shoes, celebrated by playing my favorite song off a CD called "Loser Anthems" ("Flashdance II") for quite a bit.

Then I ate a TV dinner. Because a hot TV dinner can make you feel just so damn content and pleased that things are just the way they are.

Sunday, March 06, 2005

when i leave, things die.

look at me, being egotistical: i stopped posting, and the whole system collapsed.

i want to make cool references to all of the interesting things that i've donce since i stopped posting. unfortunately, not only do i not remember half of the things that i do, i don't really do anything interesting or worth remembering. maybe that's why i'm trying to carry my camera more; either to remember meaningless events, or to make them feel more meaningful.


the other day, i needed to say "i love you." not online or on the phone. it needed to be aloud, and directed at something real -- not a telephone receiver or a computer screen. nobody was home, and even if someone was i don't think i would have taken advantage of that fact. i went outside. it was cold. for a bit, i sat on the front stoop, and told passing cars that i loved them. icily, they simply passed by, without any acknowledgement that they had heard me. i moved to the back yard, liberating a lawn chair from my garage. i sat on my patio, watching the empty bird feeder and hoping for a bird to come along. the feeder has been empty for months now, and i guess the birds have moved on. i put the chair away when my face and my fingers were the same temperature. inside, i told an orange that i loved it. then i ate it.

end of my heavy-hearted work of staggering genius.

i want to be sarcastic and angsty about prom. but i can't be.

my senior year is ending and i don't know how to feel.