Thursday, March 31, 2011
Damon
There are times in a person's life when the right thing is possible to do, but the lack of action isn't. This could just be the atheist in me talking, but I'm pretty sure that Jesus wasn't moral all the time. Didn't he beat the shit out of some merchants or something? Anyway, the Son of Man never had a hard-on for his sisters best friend, did he? Did he even have a sister? I don't know, I'm getting off topic when I need to be getting this off my chest.
Ah, chest. Ethan had a spectacular torso. The first time I saw him coming out of the pool, water dripping off him, the slight bulge of fat at the top of his swim trunks, the tufts of hair over just visible pecs...delicious. The hair plastered to his scalp, green eyes sparkling out from under drunkenly heavy lids. I was prepared for serenity and got my hopes up. Alas, it wasn't to be. I wish I could quote some Shakespeare or Freud to make myself feel better, some cliched saying that would prove to my damaged ego that there is light at the end of the tunnel. All I can do is doubt the validity of my feelings. Did I feel love or lust? Was he simply unattainable? I'll never know.
He was seventeen. I was eighteen. Ethan was tall, slightly muscular, athletic. I was short, glasses, bookish. Confused about my appeal. Didn't know no one wanted me. I preferred D&D and LARP to baseball and football. I was living out Twilight, except without the vampires or being attractive. Even the weather seemed to conspire to make me miserable. It was always sunny that summer, always warm enough to allow swimming regardless of the time of day or night. We had the only pool in a twenty mile radius, so of course I saw a wide variety of tight young bodies as the boys splashed around or chased each other. They would grapple and snap each other with towels and I would die a little inside. Especially when Ethan showed up. He always made an effort to seek me out and say hi. How I hated him for that.
It would have been easier to hide, but one can't always hide behind the Wall Street Journal and foam swords so I would say hi back. I was strong and friendly and wanted nothing more than to crawl under a rock and run away from myself. But I didn't. I said hello back and that was that, Ethan went back to the pool to work on his glowing tan. I went back to my WoW account. Manipulating the auction houses for personal gain and the destruction of the online economy was the only way for me to relieve my sexual frustration.
So it goes, all the way to August. Day after day of torment, seeing his supple body darken under the summer sun, the smile flashing with the whiteness of his teeth. Carefree. I had (kinda) gotten used to Ethan saying hi every day, even getting to the point where we had actual conversations. He seemed genuinely interested in J.R.R. Tolkein, although it might have been the movies. He seemed genuinely interested in me, but he wasn't, he was just friendly. I was young, and tried to kiss him during one of the conversations in the house.
We were both in the kitchen. August, and you could smell fall in the air. It was almost here, which meant his senior year was coming up, along with my freshman year of college. There was a lull in the conversation, usually around the time he would excuse himself and join his friends at the pool. I stepped closer, he looked at me with surprise. I tilted my head up, closed my eyes, never saw his repulsion. Ethan put his hands on my chest, and pushed me gently away. “Damon, I'm not gay. Sorry.”
He stopped coming for the pool parties. Of course I was outed to my parents, who refused to believe I had no choice and sent me to a camp for rehabilitation. I'm now proud to say that I'm 100% straight, but I will always remember that summer, and Ethan, and his lips.
I'm more miserable now than when he pushed me away. Please help.
Ah, chest. Ethan had a spectacular torso. The first time I saw him coming out of the pool, water dripping off him, the slight bulge of fat at the top of his swim trunks, the tufts of hair over just visible pecs...delicious. The hair plastered to his scalp, green eyes sparkling out from under drunkenly heavy lids. I was prepared for serenity and got my hopes up. Alas, it wasn't to be. I wish I could quote some Shakespeare or Freud to make myself feel better, some cliched saying that would prove to my damaged ego that there is light at the end of the tunnel. All I can do is doubt the validity of my feelings. Did I feel love or lust? Was he simply unattainable? I'll never know.
He was seventeen. I was eighteen. Ethan was tall, slightly muscular, athletic. I was short, glasses, bookish. Confused about my appeal. Didn't know no one wanted me. I preferred D&D and LARP to baseball and football. I was living out Twilight, except without the vampires or being attractive. Even the weather seemed to conspire to make me miserable. It was always sunny that summer, always warm enough to allow swimming regardless of the time of day or night. We had the only pool in a twenty mile radius, so of course I saw a wide variety of tight young bodies as the boys splashed around or chased each other. They would grapple and snap each other with towels and I would die a little inside. Especially when Ethan showed up. He always made an effort to seek me out and say hi. How I hated him for that.
It would have been easier to hide, but one can't always hide behind the Wall Street Journal and foam swords so I would say hi back. I was strong and friendly and wanted nothing more than to crawl under a rock and run away from myself. But I didn't. I said hello back and that was that, Ethan went back to the pool to work on his glowing tan. I went back to my WoW account. Manipulating the auction houses for personal gain and the destruction of the online economy was the only way for me to relieve my sexual frustration.
So it goes, all the way to August. Day after day of torment, seeing his supple body darken under the summer sun, the smile flashing with the whiteness of his teeth. Carefree. I had (kinda) gotten used to Ethan saying hi every day, even getting to the point where we had actual conversations. He seemed genuinely interested in J.R.R. Tolkein, although it might have been the movies. He seemed genuinely interested in me, but he wasn't, he was just friendly. I was young, and tried to kiss him during one of the conversations in the house.
We were both in the kitchen. August, and you could smell fall in the air. It was almost here, which meant his senior year was coming up, along with my freshman year of college. There was a lull in the conversation, usually around the time he would excuse himself and join his friends at the pool. I stepped closer, he looked at me with surprise. I tilted my head up, closed my eyes, never saw his repulsion. Ethan put his hands on my chest, and pushed me gently away. “Damon, I'm not gay. Sorry.”
He stopped coming for the pool parties. Of course I was outed to my parents, who refused to believe I had no choice and sent me to a camp for rehabilitation. I'm now proud to say that I'm 100% straight, but I will always remember that summer, and Ethan, and his lips.
I'm more miserable now than when he pushed me away. Please help.
Diary Of A Suicide
April 10th, 2006
I don't know how to start this or introduce myself. Dear diary? Not worry about speaking to an inanimate object and just get my thoughts down? Oh, well, fuck it.
I'm hoping that this will make my life a little more clear. I get decent grades, am not the least popular person in school, but certainly not the class president or anything. Which is really more a popularity contest than anything. I've got an older brother that went through this school. He's already done with college. He tells me about cool bands and gives me tips on how to dress and stuff, but he just glides through life. He was Homecoming King, class president, valedictorian, captain of the wrestling team. He graduated Summa Cum Laude from Stanford with a degree in microbiology. He's applying to medical school now. I just don't know what to do.
There's this girl, see. She's amazingly beautiful, really smart, and yet another girl I can't talk to. I mean, I'm going to be a senior in high school soon, and that means I'm going to have to step up and be a man. I have to stop being a wussy and just talk to her. My brother taught me how to pick up girls. I should be able to do this. I think there's something wrong with me.
April 18th, 2006
I think I should start doing this more often. I look back at what I wrote last week, and I already feel like a different person. I'm more confident, passed my last trig exam before finals, and actually talked to her! She sits behind me in history class, and right before class started she tapped me on the shoulder. When I turned around she asked if she could borrow a pen or pencil because she didn't have one. I didn't even stutter when I said sure! Today's an awesome day!
April 20th, 2006
I think I'm going to start putting quotes at the beginning of every time I write so when I look back I understand where I was coming from. It'll be a quote to fit the mood I'm in. Here's the first one, from Robert Frost. I found it online so I don't know what poem its from:
“Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.”
Isn't that awesome? I talked to her again today. She dropped her history book and I was right there so I picked it up and handed it to her. She smiled, thanked me, and I informed her that it wasn't a problem. Things are going great. My plan tomorrow is to ask her about her plans for the weekend. If she blows me off, no big deal. I just have to remember to keep cool and not bother her if she's already talking to someone else. Wish me luck.
April 22nd, 2006
All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.
-Edgar Allan Poe
I succeeded in my plan to talk to her yesterday. She said she was going to see Scary Movie 4 with some friends. Then she asked what I was doing. I told her I was probably just going to go to the mall and hang out with a buddy. She smiled and said that was cool and that she might see me there, then turned around to talk to her friend who just poked her in the back. It almost sounded like she was hoping to see me there. I was so excited and dragged my best friend to the mall on Saturday. We normally just hang out at my house and play video games. Ever since my dad left my mom's been, I don't know, afraid to let me go anywhere. I think she's afraid I'll leave, too. I begged and begged and she finally gave me her car keys so he and I could go. Once we got there we went to the comic book store and then sat in the food court. We didn't really talk, just read. I'd glance up every once in a while to try and find her. I'm going to stop saying her, but am going to change her name. Let's call her Carly. Anyway, our table looked over the lower level of the mall and was in the center, so if she was there I'd probably see her eventually. She finally came from the direction of the movie theater with a couple friends. I was excited to see her, and was trying to plan how I was going to accidentally bump into her, but then a big guy that I think is on the football team came out and kinda hugged her hard. She giggled, punched him in the shoulder, and gave him a kiss. My heart dropped into my stomach. I had to have a new plan.
April 24th, 2006
Even if you’re on the right track, you’ll get run over if you just sit there.
- Will Rogers
Alright. I put my new plan into action. I know that this random jock will just break her heart pretty soon, and will need someone to help her. I'll become her friend, and once she sees that I'm a caring guy that's there for her, without any need for award, and then she'll fall in love with me. It's fool proof. So, today I told her that I needed help with studying for our history final, and told her that she seemed to really grasp the material. Then I asked if she would tutor me. She said that she'd think about it. I told her okay, but why don't you take my phone number and call me tonight so I could talk to my mom and see if we could pay her. She took my number and called tonight after dinner. I told her that my mom said she could pay her 100 dollars for 3 days a week until our final. The only stipulation was that we had to do it at the kitchen table right after school. Carly said that was cool with her, and asked when we would start. I asked her if Wednesday or Friday were better for her. She said Wednesday was fine. I told her that I could drop her off at home on the way to pick my mom up from work, and again, she said that was cool. Phase 1 complete.
April 28th, 2006
I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.
- Edgar Allan Poe
Things haven't gone so well this week. Every time I tried to be funny or anything with Carly she always brought it back to studying. Nothing could breach that wall. I was left with my own fantasies while she collected her money. The more time I spent in her presence, the more time I spent trying to crack the code of her passion, the more she set my soul on fire. It is impossible to put it into words, but I'm going to try. She would bend her head over a book, her hair falling to the table, creating an auburn curtain between us. Her left hand would come up, brush the hair behind her ear, and look up at me. She wouldn't lift her head, just take her eyes off the book and place them on mine. My heart would melt and the world would stop. I don't know what it is to notice the little things. The small mole by her eye that is vaguely shaped like a heart. The way she would wrinkle her nose a little bit while trying to make me understand a point in the book. The way she would tilt her head a little to the right while making a cup with her hands while lecturing me. I can't do it justice. I just know that I feel good the couple hours she is there every day, and fall apart when she gets into her boyfriend's car and drives away. I put up my books, go into my room, and sleep.
May 1st, 2006
Humanity, you never had it from the beginning.
- Charles Bukowski
My best friend, again a pseudonym, Jimmy, came over yesterday. I told him all about Carly, the progress I wasn't making, etc. He thought that I was flogging a dead horse with her, but was generally supportive. I asked him why, if love was so great, it hurt so bad. He said, and I quote, “No pain, no gain.” I had never thought of that before. I wanted to get that down before I went to school. See you soon.
May 1st, 2006
I already gave you a quote for today, so I'm not going to worry about it. Actually, I gave you a name today, too. I learned it in school. Dorian. Like Dorian Gray. I'm actually in a good mood today. I don't know why. Yeah, I had an actual conversation with Carly today, but that isn't why, I don't think. My brother made me a CD and mailed it to me. It was awesome! It had The Beatles, Elvis Costello, Talking Heads, The Doors, The Cranberries, Nick Drake, The Runaways. A bunch of really cool stuff. Its a great day to be alive. I looked out my window a little while ago and could see a bunch of baby birds in a nest. I am going to try and find a poem about spring to put in here, but first this picture:
That's kinda what Carly looks like. Just thought you would like to know. Here's the poem I found:
It was like waking up
After eons of loneliness
Condemned to always be alone
Unable to find any company
Bereft of even the briefest of company
To find someone holding my hand
It was like waking up
From a hideous nightmare
And all that was left
Was mindless terror
Seeking to run and hide in a corner
Hiding from everything coming for me
To safety and warmth
It was like waking up
From weeks of endless hunger
Where no drink could slake thirst
Always on my last gasp
But always able to get just the bare minimum
And see a feast laid out before me
It was like waking up
After days of anguish
Racked in body and mind
Knowing I couldn’t go on and live like this
To find the pain gone
It was like
Finally waking up
- Tulloch McKinley
I like this poem. I found it online and it seems to fit what I am feeling.
May 4th, 2006
Think like a man of action, and act like a man of thought.
- Henri L. Bergson
Dear Dorian,
Today's my birthday. I'm 17. Carly brought me a gift yesterday. I don't know how she knew it was my birthday, and it wasn't much. Just a bookmark, because she knows I like to read. It's a leather bookmark that has a quote from Socrates on it: “Wisdom begins in wonder.” Consequentially, it makes me wonder. Is she starting to like me? We haven't really hung out. I mean, we talk almost every day now at school, and it is good. Its surface stuff, but I think I'm falling for her. She's...nice. I hate using that word because it is almost worthless, but she's unique. All other girls like her wouldn't have even helped me study, but I'm hoping this summer will be like that song, All Summer Long, by The Beach Boys. Finals are next week. No more writing until they're over. Again, here's a poem to keep you company:
She’s beautiful
And I’d enjoy it
No argument there
But it wouldn’t be right
No matter how good it felt
So, ultimately I refused the offer
I remain the captain of my own soul
Even if my pants are considering mutiny
- Tulloch McKinley
May 17th, 2006
You can never cross the ocean unless you have the courage to lose sight of the shore.
- Christopher Columbus
Dear Dorian,
I did it. Well, I passed my finals, but that's not what I'm talking about. I asked out Carly. Well, not really, because she's still with the asshole jock. But she's coming over to watch a movie and hang out a little bit. I'm trying to find the perfect movie. One that will be romantic, but not in a lovey dovey way. Funny, but not too smart. Action, but not bloody. I'm thinking Grosse Pointe Blank. Yeah, I'd have to compete with John Cusack, but I think its a good choice, and then maybe order a pizza. I'm super excited. I've got to go clean my room and make it look cool now. I'll be back later.
May 20th, 2006
When one door of happiness closes, another opens, but often we took so long at the closed door that we do not see the one that has been opened up for us.
- Helen Keller
Dear Dorian,
I'm not devastated, just very, very upset. Carly couldn't make it today. She said it was because she wasn't feeling well, but I think it was just because she didn't want to come over. I think I creep her out. I did everything I thought I should, but I guess it just isn't enough. I'm going to have to think some more. Jimmy is coming over, so I'll talk to you later.
June 2nd, 2006
If you’re going through hell, keep going.
- Winston Churchill
Dear Dorian,
I'm better now. Carly called earlier and asked if I wanted to come over. She sounded upset, so I said sure and got my mom to let me use the car. When I got there she had me come to her room. She looked like she had been crying so I sat down with her and waited. She told me that the asshole had broken up with her. I knew he would, of course. She didn't want any of her friends to know because she was embarrassed so she called me. I can accept that. I was basically there to hold her while she cried. I hoped she would kiss me, because she looked so beautiful. Beautiful in a terrible way. Her face was wet from the tears, her mascara had run and her face was puffy and her hair was all disheveled, but the beauty still shone through. She didn't kiss me. Still, progress is progress, right? I told her something I stole from online:
“Arrow goes forward only after pulling in to backward
Bullet goes forward only after pressing the trigger backward
Every human being will get happy
Only after facing the difficulties in their life path...
So do not be afraid to face your difficulties
They will push you forward”
She wiped her tears and smiled after that and asked if I wanted to watch a movie. We saw Breakfast At Tiffany's and then I went home. She thanked me for listening to her.
June 5th, 2006
I'm in love with the world through the eyes of a girl/Who's still around the morning after.
- Elliot Smith
Dear Dorian,
I think I'm in love with Carly. We hung out yesterday and today. She just left to go to the mall with some of her girlfriends to catch up on “girl talk”. I think she's feeling better about her ex. I'm about to have Jimmy come over and we're going to hang and play some video games. I'm going to ask his advice about what to do with Carly. I'm not sure why, because he's never kissed a girl either, but at least he can give me an outsiders opinion. Just thought I would say hi. Been listening to a lot of Elliot Smith and Incubus lately. Songwriting is fantastic.
June 12th, 2006
Social networks aren’t about Web sites. They’re about experiences.
- Mike DiLorenzo
Dear Dorian,
What the fuck is up with Facebook and Twitter and all this shit? I don't get it. I mean, I have a MySpace and all that, but I don't understand how people spend so much time on it. I mean, I go on there, I put up a quote or share a cool video I saw or something, but that's about it. I don't tell people about the shower products I'm using or anything like that. I found out today that Carly has a new boyfriend. Through Facebook. They're always going back and forth with all these cutesy little pictures and shit. What the fuck? Where was he when the last asshole dumped her? Where was he when she felt like shit? Where do I fit into this? Yeah, I'm good to hang out with, she feels safe with me, I get that. I just don't understand how that doesn't translate into boyfriend material. Is it because the only friends I have on Facebook and MySpace are people that are actually my friends? All 30 of them? Including, ugh, my mom? I don't feel the need to let everyone into the minutiae of my life. Not that they would be interested in it. I mean, 30 people. Is that all I can count on to be my friends?
June 14th, 2006
Your worst enemy could be your best friend, and your best friend your worst enemy.
- Bob Marley
Dear Dorian,
You know that movie Juno? There's that scene at the end where Ellen Page and Michael Cera are playing guitar together and singing a song. That seems so cool. I want a girlfriend to do that with. Sure, I can't play guitar, and I can't sing, and this is the most I've ever written, but we could learn together, right? Anyway, Jimmy and I were playing Guitar Hero today and talking about movies. He saw this one Natural Born Killers, and thought it was pretty cool. Two people, loving each other, doing what they loved together. Sure, it was fucked up, but at least they didn't stab each other in the back, not like the end of 1984. That was a messed up ending. Jimmy always seems to know, you know? He seems like he has his shit together. We haven't even started senior year yet and he already has his college applications going out. I don't even know if I want to go to college, or if I do where. He wants to major in journalism and be the next Bob Woodward or something. I just want to be myself, but I don't even know who that is. Hell, Woody Harrelson could go on a cross country killing spree with his girlfriend and I don't have a reason to leave my room. I think I'm going to go for a bike ride this weekend. Maybe I'll throw some shit in a backpack and go camping in the woods. I wonder if Jimmy would be down for that. We could just rig up a trailer to pull behind our bikes and put some food and a tent and shit in there and find a place to build a fire and get water and a campsite and sleep under the stars. We'll have to bring lots of matches.
June 19th, 2006
What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Dear Dorian,
WOW!!!! That was fun. I just got back. Jimmy and I went into the mountains for 4 days by ourselves. It was awesome. It took us a day just to pack. I got a shovel and ax and tent and some sleeping bags. We had to go back for a can opener because we took canned food along and almost forgot. It took us about 5 hours to bike up to a creek. We wanted to go way away from people, just the two of us. I thought for the hell of it we could read poems to each other at night. I mean, not gay or anything, but just like they did back in the day, you know? So I grabbed my mom's copy of Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman because she said it would help us appreciate the natural beauty around us. I also stole a couple bottles of her wine. Luckily Jimmy had his swiss army knife or else we wouldn't have been able to drink it. Also, Jimmy's brother gave him some weed but we didn't have anything to smoke out of so we spent a day whittling a pipe out of a stick. Jimmy did most of the work. I set up our tent and fire ring and got firewood while he did it. It was a lot of fun. Also, my brother sent me some stamps in his last letter. That's most of the reason why I wanted to go out to the woods. He said that if we licked the back of them we would see things completely differently. So that was the plan. We were going to set up camp, maybe do some exploring around the site and see if we could find any bears or deer or anything and then at night lick the stamps and smoke the pot. It was awesome. I felt like an Indian or something sitting by the fire smoking out of this big pipe that was freshly made. I kept having to cough, but that was cool. After we licked the stamps we didn't want to stay in the tent so we dragged our sleeping bags out into the starlight and just laid on our backs. We just laid there, together, not saying anything. I felt peaceful for the first time in a long time. I didn't worry about Carly and her new boyfriend or college or senior year or anything. I just looked at the stars and didn't stop until I woke up the next morning. Needless to say Jimmy and I planned the next night way better. I found the perfect poem to read and we got everything set up just right. We had plenty of water and ate beforehand because the pot made us hungry. We also went back to the closest gas station and got a lot of Twinkies. We were craving them something fierce. Before I forget to tell you, here's the poem I read that second night:
EARTH! my likeness!
Though you look so impassive, ample and spheric there,
I now suspect that is not all;
I now suspect there is something fierce in you, eligible to burst forth;
For an athlete is enamour’d of me—and I of him;
But toward him there is something fierce and terrible in me, eligible to burst forth,
I dare not tell it in words—not even in these songs.
I know, in that high school English kinda way that this is a way of speaking forth his homosexual tendencies, but the expansiveness, the sense that there was something waiting in the wings for him just seemed perfect. So, that second night, we smoked some more pot, opened the bottle of wine with our Twinkies, and licked the stamps. I had brought my Ipod and speakers, so I played a bunch of songs just for that night. James Taylor, Incubus, Joni Mitchell, Jimi Hendrix and a bunch of other stuff that was good for the acid, cause I figured out later that's what was making us feel so expansive. I just blasted it and we ran around the woods, out of our heads. Then we got back into our sleeping bags and talked about the stars. Every shooting star seemed like a dream come true, a wish brought to fruition. It was our future, waiting. We were out of pot and acid and wine after those two nights, so we just read cool shit to each other at night and it was really awesome. Jimmy even wrote this awesome poem in the dirt with a stick. I think I remembered all of it, so here goes:
Who can find
All the words that need to be said
When all of the saying
Is said and done?
It is impossible
It is absurd
To believe all the words
Can be taken away
And given again
In place of the ones
That shouldn't be said
I thought that was really profound. Here's what acid was like for me:
June 22nd, 2006
Every man of genius sees the world at a different angle from his fellows, and there is his tragedy.
- Havelock Ellis
Dear Dorian,
I talked to Carly for the first time in almost a week and a half today. She was really impressed with my camping trip and wants to take one with me. I was all set to make a date with her to do it until she asked if Brandon or Bryce or whatever his name is could come along. Then I got hesitant and just didn't really want to. I would've wanted it to be something for just the two of us to share, and she would've spoiled it by bringing him. Why can't she see what this is doing to me? I know where she is coming from, but she can do that with him herself. I don't want anything to do with him. Fuck him.
June 24th, 2006
Fanatics are picturesque, mankind would rather see gestures than listen to reasons.
-Friederich Nietzsche
Dear Dorian,
My mom made me go to church again today. Again, in Sunday School everyone thought that I was some weird loser or something. Do I have a sign around my neck or something? I know I'm not that religious, but that's only because I don't have the faith they do. I don't see it as having faith in God or Jesus or whatever, but faith in man that he's not just making up some bullshit. I don't get it. Nobody at school likes me. Nobody at church likes me. Jimmy only likes to go on adventures with me, and I think Carly views me as disposable. I'm just someone she can use up and throw away. A human Kleenex or something. I don't know. I just don't know.
July 4th, 2006
Man's real life is happy, chiefly because he is ever expecting that it soon will be so.
- Edgar Allan Poe
Dear Dorian,
I talked to Jimmy today. I got some more acid from my brother and we were going to go to the woods and watch the fireworks and stars again, but he got a girlfriend. I didn't even know he was talking to a girl. I don't think I've even met her. How can I have never met my best friend's girlfriend? Is he my best friend? Are you my only friend? And I'm you and you are me, so the only person I really have that understands me is myself and I'm incomprehensible to myself which is why I am writing in this to begin with, right? Maybe I shouldn't write on acid.
August 4th, 2006
In one case out of a hundred a point is excessively discussed because it is obscure; in the ninety-nine remaining it is obscure because it is excessively discussed.
- Edgar Allan Poe
Dear Dorian,
Sorry I haven't written for a while, but I was learning a lot of shit. Do you know why my mom, always so protective, was willing to let me go out and do all this shit this summer? She's fucking getting married! She's marrying some douche that came over for dinner, like, 4 times. How was I supposed to know I was going to be meeting my new dad or whatever? What is this asshole going to do for me? Is he going to help me write college applications? Is he going to help with my history or calculus or physics or anything? Who is the fucking kid here, and if I'm not the kid, why do I not have a say in the matter? I can't do this any more.
August 6th, 2006
By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe.
- Anonymous
Dear Dorian,
I've been figuring some shit out. I think I have it. Let me break it down:
1. The girl I love is a flirtatious, silly tramp who wouldn't know a good guy if he was there listening to her every woe.
2. My best friend isn't my best friend. He doesn't know or understand me, and is so embarrassed by me that I still haven't met his girlfriend.
3. My mom doesn't care enough to be around, and still drags me to church. She obviously doesn't care.
4. The only person that I have to talk to is myself, which is a quick slope to insanity.
5. I have found truth, which is that the world is insane and chaotic, and thus unnecessary. It is a dream world, and all I can do is awake.
6. I have found my way out. It's at the other end of rubber hose taped to the exhaust pipe of my mom's car, a full tank of gas, and a “malfunctioning” and airtight garage door.
So, in conclusion, this goes out to my mom and D-Bag, Jimmy, Carly, all you assholes at First Southern Baptist Church, all you bastards at James E. Monroe High School, and all you cocksuckers that write pop songs that convince me that in the end the guy gets the girl. Fuck you John Hughes.
I'll leave you with a picture and a quote, and then its goodbye:
It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream.
- Edgar Allan Poe
The End
I don't know how to start this or introduce myself. Dear diary? Not worry about speaking to an inanimate object and just get my thoughts down? Oh, well, fuck it.
I'm hoping that this will make my life a little more clear. I get decent grades, am not the least popular person in school, but certainly not the class president or anything. Which is really more a popularity contest than anything. I've got an older brother that went through this school. He's already done with college. He tells me about cool bands and gives me tips on how to dress and stuff, but he just glides through life. He was Homecoming King, class president, valedictorian, captain of the wrestling team. He graduated Summa Cum Laude from Stanford with a degree in microbiology. He's applying to medical school now. I just don't know what to do.
There's this girl, see. She's amazingly beautiful, really smart, and yet another girl I can't talk to. I mean, I'm going to be a senior in high school soon, and that means I'm going to have to step up and be a man. I have to stop being a wussy and just talk to her. My brother taught me how to pick up girls. I should be able to do this. I think there's something wrong with me.
April 18th, 2006
I think I should start doing this more often. I look back at what I wrote last week, and I already feel like a different person. I'm more confident, passed my last trig exam before finals, and actually talked to her! She sits behind me in history class, and right before class started she tapped me on the shoulder. When I turned around she asked if she could borrow a pen or pencil because she didn't have one. I didn't even stutter when I said sure! Today's an awesome day!
April 20th, 2006
I think I'm going to start putting quotes at the beginning of every time I write so when I look back I understand where I was coming from. It'll be a quote to fit the mood I'm in. Here's the first one, from Robert Frost. I found it online so I don't know what poem its from:
“Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.”
Isn't that awesome? I talked to her again today. She dropped her history book and I was right there so I picked it up and handed it to her. She smiled, thanked me, and I informed her that it wasn't a problem. Things are going great. My plan tomorrow is to ask her about her plans for the weekend. If she blows me off, no big deal. I just have to remember to keep cool and not bother her if she's already talking to someone else. Wish me luck.
April 22nd, 2006
All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.
-Edgar Allan Poe
I succeeded in my plan to talk to her yesterday. She said she was going to see Scary Movie 4 with some friends. Then she asked what I was doing. I told her I was probably just going to go to the mall and hang out with a buddy. She smiled and said that was cool and that she might see me there, then turned around to talk to her friend who just poked her in the back. It almost sounded like she was hoping to see me there. I was so excited and dragged my best friend to the mall on Saturday. We normally just hang out at my house and play video games. Ever since my dad left my mom's been, I don't know, afraid to let me go anywhere. I think she's afraid I'll leave, too. I begged and begged and she finally gave me her car keys so he and I could go. Once we got there we went to the comic book store and then sat in the food court. We didn't really talk, just read. I'd glance up every once in a while to try and find her. I'm going to stop saying her, but am going to change her name. Let's call her Carly. Anyway, our table looked over the lower level of the mall and was in the center, so if she was there I'd probably see her eventually. She finally came from the direction of the movie theater with a couple friends. I was excited to see her, and was trying to plan how I was going to accidentally bump into her, but then a big guy that I think is on the football team came out and kinda hugged her hard. She giggled, punched him in the shoulder, and gave him a kiss. My heart dropped into my stomach. I had to have a new plan.
April 24th, 2006
Even if you’re on the right track, you’ll get run over if you just sit there.
- Will Rogers
Alright. I put my new plan into action. I know that this random jock will just break her heart pretty soon, and will need someone to help her. I'll become her friend, and once she sees that I'm a caring guy that's there for her, without any need for award, and then she'll fall in love with me. It's fool proof. So, today I told her that I needed help with studying for our history final, and told her that she seemed to really grasp the material. Then I asked if she would tutor me. She said that she'd think about it. I told her okay, but why don't you take my phone number and call me tonight so I could talk to my mom and see if we could pay her. She took my number and called tonight after dinner. I told her that my mom said she could pay her 100 dollars for 3 days a week until our final. The only stipulation was that we had to do it at the kitchen table right after school. Carly said that was cool with her, and asked when we would start. I asked her if Wednesday or Friday were better for her. She said Wednesday was fine. I told her that I could drop her off at home on the way to pick my mom up from work, and again, she said that was cool. Phase 1 complete.
April 28th, 2006
I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.
- Edgar Allan Poe
Things haven't gone so well this week. Every time I tried to be funny or anything with Carly she always brought it back to studying. Nothing could breach that wall. I was left with my own fantasies while she collected her money. The more time I spent in her presence, the more time I spent trying to crack the code of her passion, the more she set my soul on fire. It is impossible to put it into words, but I'm going to try. She would bend her head over a book, her hair falling to the table, creating an auburn curtain between us. Her left hand would come up, brush the hair behind her ear, and look up at me. She wouldn't lift her head, just take her eyes off the book and place them on mine. My heart would melt and the world would stop. I don't know what it is to notice the little things. The small mole by her eye that is vaguely shaped like a heart. The way she would wrinkle her nose a little bit while trying to make me understand a point in the book. The way she would tilt her head a little to the right while making a cup with her hands while lecturing me. I can't do it justice. I just know that I feel good the couple hours she is there every day, and fall apart when she gets into her boyfriend's car and drives away. I put up my books, go into my room, and sleep.
May 1st, 2006
Humanity, you never had it from the beginning.
- Charles Bukowski
My best friend, again a pseudonym, Jimmy, came over yesterday. I told him all about Carly, the progress I wasn't making, etc. He thought that I was flogging a dead horse with her, but was generally supportive. I asked him why, if love was so great, it hurt so bad. He said, and I quote, “No pain, no gain.” I had never thought of that before. I wanted to get that down before I went to school. See you soon.
May 1st, 2006
I already gave you a quote for today, so I'm not going to worry about it. Actually, I gave you a name today, too. I learned it in school. Dorian. Like Dorian Gray. I'm actually in a good mood today. I don't know why. Yeah, I had an actual conversation with Carly today, but that isn't why, I don't think. My brother made me a CD and mailed it to me. It was awesome! It had The Beatles, Elvis Costello, Talking Heads, The Doors, The Cranberries, Nick Drake, The Runaways. A bunch of really cool stuff. Its a great day to be alive. I looked out my window a little while ago and could see a bunch of baby birds in a nest. I am going to try and find a poem about spring to put in here, but first this picture:
That's kinda what Carly looks like. Just thought you would like to know. Here's the poem I found:
It was like waking up
After eons of loneliness
Condemned to always be alone
Unable to find any company
Bereft of even the briefest of company
To find someone holding my hand
It was like waking up
From a hideous nightmare
And all that was left
Was mindless terror
Seeking to run and hide in a corner
Hiding from everything coming for me
To safety and warmth
It was like waking up
From weeks of endless hunger
Where no drink could slake thirst
Always on my last gasp
But always able to get just the bare minimum
And see a feast laid out before me
It was like waking up
After days of anguish
Racked in body and mind
Knowing I couldn’t go on and live like this
To find the pain gone
It was like
Finally waking up
- Tulloch McKinley
I like this poem. I found it online and it seems to fit what I am feeling.
May 4th, 2006
Think like a man of action, and act like a man of thought.
- Henri L. Bergson
Dear Dorian,
Today's my birthday. I'm 17. Carly brought me a gift yesterday. I don't know how she knew it was my birthday, and it wasn't much. Just a bookmark, because she knows I like to read. It's a leather bookmark that has a quote from Socrates on it: “Wisdom begins in wonder.” Consequentially, it makes me wonder. Is she starting to like me? We haven't really hung out. I mean, we talk almost every day now at school, and it is good. Its surface stuff, but I think I'm falling for her. She's...nice. I hate using that word because it is almost worthless, but she's unique. All other girls like her wouldn't have even helped me study, but I'm hoping this summer will be like that song, All Summer Long, by The Beach Boys. Finals are next week. No more writing until they're over. Again, here's a poem to keep you company:
She’s beautiful
And I’d enjoy it
No argument there
But it wouldn’t be right
No matter how good it felt
So, ultimately I refused the offer
I remain the captain of my own soul
Even if my pants are considering mutiny
- Tulloch McKinley
May 17th, 2006
You can never cross the ocean unless you have the courage to lose sight of the shore.
- Christopher Columbus
Dear Dorian,
I did it. Well, I passed my finals, but that's not what I'm talking about. I asked out Carly. Well, not really, because she's still with the asshole jock. But she's coming over to watch a movie and hang out a little bit. I'm trying to find the perfect movie. One that will be romantic, but not in a lovey dovey way. Funny, but not too smart. Action, but not bloody. I'm thinking Grosse Pointe Blank. Yeah, I'd have to compete with John Cusack, but I think its a good choice, and then maybe order a pizza. I'm super excited. I've got to go clean my room and make it look cool now. I'll be back later.
May 20th, 2006
When one door of happiness closes, another opens, but often we took so long at the closed door that we do not see the one that has been opened up for us.
- Helen Keller
Dear Dorian,
I'm not devastated, just very, very upset. Carly couldn't make it today. She said it was because she wasn't feeling well, but I think it was just because she didn't want to come over. I think I creep her out. I did everything I thought I should, but I guess it just isn't enough. I'm going to have to think some more. Jimmy is coming over, so I'll talk to you later.
June 2nd, 2006
If you’re going through hell, keep going.
- Winston Churchill
Dear Dorian,
I'm better now. Carly called earlier and asked if I wanted to come over. She sounded upset, so I said sure and got my mom to let me use the car. When I got there she had me come to her room. She looked like she had been crying so I sat down with her and waited. She told me that the asshole had broken up with her. I knew he would, of course. She didn't want any of her friends to know because she was embarrassed so she called me. I can accept that. I was basically there to hold her while she cried. I hoped she would kiss me, because she looked so beautiful. Beautiful in a terrible way. Her face was wet from the tears, her mascara had run and her face was puffy and her hair was all disheveled, but the beauty still shone through. She didn't kiss me. Still, progress is progress, right? I told her something I stole from online:
“Arrow goes forward only after pulling in to backward
Bullet goes forward only after pressing the trigger backward
Every human being will get happy
Only after facing the difficulties in their life path...
So do not be afraid to face your difficulties
They will push you forward”
She wiped her tears and smiled after that and asked if I wanted to watch a movie. We saw Breakfast At Tiffany's and then I went home. She thanked me for listening to her.
June 5th, 2006
I'm in love with the world through the eyes of a girl/Who's still around the morning after.
- Elliot Smith
Dear Dorian,
I think I'm in love with Carly. We hung out yesterday and today. She just left to go to the mall with some of her girlfriends to catch up on “girl talk”. I think she's feeling better about her ex. I'm about to have Jimmy come over and we're going to hang and play some video games. I'm going to ask his advice about what to do with Carly. I'm not sure why, because he's never kissed a girl either, but at least he can give me an outsiders opinion. Just thought I would say hi. Been listening to a lot of Elliot Smith and Incubus lately. Songwriting is fantastic.
June 12th, 2006
Social networks aren’t about Web sites. They’re about experiences.
- Mike DiLorenzo
Dear Dorian,
What the fuck is up with Facebook and Twitter and all this shit? I don't get it. I mean, I have a MySpace and all that, but I don't understand how people spend so much time on it. I mean, I go on there, I put up a quote or share a cool video I saw or something, but that's about it. I don't tell people about the shower products I'm using or anything like that. I found out today that Carly has a new boyfriend. Through Facebook. They're always going back and forth with all these cutesy little pictures and shit. What the fuck? Where was he when the last asshole dumped her? Where was he when she felt like shit? Where do I fit into this? Yeah, I'm good to hang out with, she feels safe with me, I get that. I just don't understand how that doesn't translate into boyfriend material. Is it because the only friends I have on Facebook and MySpace are people that are actually my friends? All 30 of them? Including, ugh, my mom? I don't feel the need to let everyone into the minutiae of my life. Not that they would be interested in it. I mean, 30 people. Is that all I can count on to be my friends?
June 14th, 2006
Your worst enemy could be your best friend, and your best friend your worst enemy.
- Bob Marley
Dear Dorian,
You know that movie Juno? There's that scene at the end where Ellen Page and Michael Cera are playing guitar together and singing a song. That seems so cool. I want a girlfriend to do that with. Sure, I can't play guitar, and I can't sing, and this is the most I've ever written, but we could learn together, right? Anyway, Jimmy and I were playing Guitar Hero today and talking about movies. He saw this one Natural Born Killers, and thought it was pretty cool. Two people, loving each other, doing what they loved together. Sure, it was fucked up, but at least they didn't stab each other in the back, not like the end of 1984. That was a messed up ending. Jimmy always seems to know, you know? He seems like he has his shit together. We haven't even started senior year yet and he already has his college applications going out. I don't even know if I want to go to college, or if I do where. He wants to major in journalism and be the next Bob Woodward or something. I just want to be myself, but I don't even know who that is. Hell, Woody Harrelson could go on a cross country killing spree with his girlfriend and I don't have a reason to leave my room. I think I'm going to go for a bike ride this weekend. Maybe I'll throw some shit in a backpack and go camping in the woods. I wonder if Jimmy would be down for that. We could just rig up a trailer to pull behind our bikes and put some food and a tent and shit in there and find a place to build a fire and get water and a campsite and sleep under the stars. We'll have to bring lots of matches.
June 19th, 2006
What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Dear Dorian,
WOW!!!! That was fun. I just got back. Jimmy and I went into the mountains for 4 days by ourselves. It was awesome. It took us a day just to pack. I got a shovel and ax and tent and some sleeping bags. We had to go back for a can opener because we took canned food along and almost forgot. It took us about 5 hours to bike up to a creek. We wanted to go way away from people, just the two of us. I thought for the hell of it we could read poems to each other at night. I mean, not gay or anything, but just like they did back in the day, you know? So I grabbed my mom's copy of Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman because she said it would help us appreciate the natural beauty around us. I also stole a couple bottles of her wine. Luckily Jimmy had his swiss army knife or else we wouldn't have been able to drink it. Also, Jimmy's brother gave him some weed but we didn't have anything to smoke out of so we spent a day whittling a pipe out of a stick. Jimmy did most of the work. I set up our tent and fire ring and got firewood while he did it. It was a lot of fun. Also, my brother sent me some stamps in his last letter. That's most of the reason why I wanted to go out to the woods. He said that if we licked the back of them we would see things completely differently. So that was the plan. We were going to set up camp, maybe do some exploring around the site and see if we could find any bears or deer or anything and then at night lick the stamps and smoke the pot. It was awesome. I felt like an Indian or something sitting by the fire smoking out of this big pipe that was freshly made. I kept having to cough, but that was cool. After we licked the stamps we didn't want to stay in the tent so we dragged our sleeping bags out into the starlight and just laid on our backs. We just laid there, together, not saying anything. I felt peaceful for the first time in a long time. I didn't worry about Carly and her new boyfriend or college or senior year or anything. I just looked at the stars and didn't stop until I woke up the next morning. Needless to say Jimmy and I planned the next night way better. I found the perfect poem to read and we got everything set up just right. We had plenty of water and ate beforehand because the pot made us hungry. We also went back to the closest gas station and got a lot of Twinkies. We were craving them something fierce. Before I forget to tell you, here's the poem I read that second night:
EARTH! my likeness!
Though you look so impassive, ample and spheric there,
I now suspect that is not all;
I now suspect there is something fierce in you, eligible to burst forth;
For an athlete is enamour’d of me—and I of him;
But toward him there is something fierce and terrible in me, eligible to burst forth,
I dare not tell it in words—not even in these songs.
I know, in that high school English kinda way that this is a way of speaking forth his homosexual tendencies, but the expansiveness, the sense that there was something waiting in the wings for him just seemed perfect. So, that second night, we smoked some more pot, opened the bottle of wine with our Twinkies, and licked the stamps. I had brought my Ipod and speakers, so I played a bunch of songs just for that night. James Taylor, Incubus, Joni Mitchell, Jimi Hendrix and a bunch of other stuff that was good for the acid, cause I figured out later that's what was making us feel so expansive. I just blasted it and we ran around the woods, out of our heads. Then we got back into our sleeping bags and talked about the stars. Every shooting star seemed like a dream come true, a wish brought to fruition. It was our future, waiting. We were out of pot and acid and wine after those two nights, so we just read cool shit to each other at night and it was really awesome. Jimmy even wrote this awesome poem in the dirt with a stick. I think I remembered all of it, so here goes:
Who can find
All the words that need to be said
When all of the saying
Is said and done?
It is impossible
It is absurd
To believe all the words
Can be taken away
And given again
In place of the ones
That shouldn't be said
I thought that was really profound. Here's what acid was like for me:
June 22nd, 2006
Every man of genius sees the world at a different angle from his fellows, and there is his tragedy.
- Havelock Ellis
Dear Dorian,
I talked to Carly for the first time in almost a week and a half today. She was really impressed with my camping trip and wants to take one with me. I was all set to make a date with her to do it until she asked if Brandon or Bryce or whatever his name is could come along. Then I got hesitant and just didn't really want to. I would've wanted it to be something for just the two of us to share, and she would've spoiled it by bringing him. Why can't she see what this is doing to me? I know where she is coming from, but she can do that with him herself. I don't want anything to do with him. Fuck him.
June 24th, 2006
Fanatics are picturesque, mankind would rather see gestures than listen to reasons.
-Friederich Nietzsche
Dear Dorian,
My mom made me go to church again today. Again, in Sunday School everyone thought that I was some weird loser or something. Do I have a sign around my neck or something? I know I'm not that religious, but that's only because I don't have the faith they do. I don't see it as having faith in God or Jesus or whatever, but faith in man that he's not just making up some bullshit. I don't get it. Nobody at school likes me. Nobody at church likes me. Jimmy only likes to go on adventures with me, and I think Carly views me as disposable. I'm just someone she can use up and throw away. A human Kleenex or something. I don't know. I just don't know.
July 4th, 2006
Man's real life is happy, chiefly because he is ever expecting that it soon will be so.
- Edgar Allan Poe
Dear Dorian,
I talked to Jimmy today. I got some more acid from my brother and we were going to go to the woods and watch the fireworks and stars again, but he got a girlfriend. I didn't even know he was talking to a girl. I don't think I've even met her. How can I have never met my best friend's girlfriend? Is he my best friend? Are you my only friend? And I'm you and you are me, so the only person I really have that understands me is myself and I'm incomprehensible to myself which is why I am writing in this to begin with, right? Maybe I shouldn't write on acid.
August 4th, 2006
In one case out of a hundred a point is excessively discussed because it is obscure; in the ninety-nine remaining it is obscure because it is excessively discussed.
- Edgar Allan Poe
Dear Dorian,
Sorry I haven't written for a while, but I was learning a lot of shit. Do you know why my mom, always so protective, was willing to let me go out and do all this shit this summer? She's fucking getting married! She's marrying some douche that came over for dinner, like, 4 times. How was I supposed to know I was going to be meeting my new dad or whatever? What is this asshole going to do for me? Is he going to help me write college applications? Is he going to help with my history or calculus or physics or anything? Who is the fucking kid here, and if I'm not the kid, why do I not have a say in the matter? I can't do this any more.
August 6th, 2006
By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe.
- Anonymous
Dear Dorian,
I've been figuring some shit out. I think I have it. Let me break it down:
1. The girl I love is a flirtatious, silly tramp who wouldn't know a good guy if he was there listening to her every woe.
2. My best friend isn't my best friend. He doesn't know or understand me, and is so embarrassed by me that I still haven't met his girlfriend.
3. My mom doesn't care enough to be around, and still drags me to church. She obviously doesn't care.
4. The only person that I have to talk to is myself, which is a quick slope to insanity.
5. I have found truth, which is that the world is insane and chaotic, and thus unnecessary. It is a dream world, and all I can do is awake.
6. I have found my way out. It's at the other end of rubber hose taped to the exhaust pipe of my mom's car, a full tank of gas, and a “malfunctioning” and airtight garage door.
So, in conclusion, this goes out to my mom and D-Bag, Jimmy, Carly, all you assholes at First Southern Baptist Church, all you bastards at James E. Monroe High School, and all you cocksuckers that write pop songs that convince me that in the end the guy gets the girl. Fuck you John Hughes.
I'll leave you with a picture and a quote, and then its goodbye:
It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream.
- Edgar Allan Poe
The End
Life Is A Fairytale
I like songs about sex. They bring to mind youth and vigor, and at this time in my life, the twilight of my years, all I have is memories of my past. We are nothing more than the sum of our experiences, and I like to think that my life is 2+2. I've not done a lot since I escaped my mother's womb. I've done things I'm ashamed of and things I'm proud of, but ultimately everything had very little meaning. Its the experiences of a life not worth living that intrigue me.
When I was 18 I got a job in a restaurant. It was the worst job I ever had, but maybe its only because of how I left.
When I was 20 I fell in love for the first time. She taught me the rules of physical love.
When I was 22 I joined the Navy.
When I was 30 I left the Navy, and actually started my life.
When I was 31 I fell in love and got married.
When I was 35 my son was born.
When I was 37 my son died.
When I was 38 I got divorced.
When I was 40 I started a journal.
When I was 45 I started my own business.
When I was 50 I learned the secret to happiness.
When I was 54 I realized I was a fool.
When I was 60 I retired and have been living off my savings until now.
When I was 70 I realized I had made no impact on the world.
When I was 79 I became alright with that fact.
When I was 80 I wrote my will, giving everything to the Red Cross.
When I was 82 I wrote this.
I haven't lived a full life, and the fact that all I have is a single page of experiences that stand out to me is evidence of this truth. I am not the smartest man in the world, nor am I the dumbest. I'm not special, or singular, or unique in any way. I have been completely ordinary. Every once in a while, though, I remember that feeling of standing on a precipice, like the world is my oyster. Those are the times that I turn on Kiss or The Sex Pistols. To remember more fully my youth. I stopped living when I was 16, and didn't realize it until 66 years later. I'm sorry this isn't longer, but if you were looking for something interesting, it might have been a good idea to read Kurt Vonnegut instead.
When I was 18 I got a job in a restaurant. It was the worst job I ever had, but maybe its only because of how I left.
When I was 20 I fell in love for the first time. She taught me the rules of physical love.
When I was 22 I joined the Navy.
When I was 30 I left the Navy, and actually started my life.
When I was 31 I fell in love and got married.
When I was 35 my son was born.
When I was 37 my son died.
When I was 38 I got divorced.
When I was 40 I started a journal.
When I was 45 I started my own business.
When I was 50 I learned the secret to happiness.
When I was 54 I realized I was a fool.
When I was 60 I retired and have been living off my savings until now.
When I was 70 I realized I had made no impact on the world.
When I was 79 I became alright with that fact.
When I was 80 I wrote my will, giving everything to the Red Cross.
When I was 82 I wrote this.
I haven't lived a full life, and the fact that all I have is a single page of experiences that stand out to me is evidence of this truth. I am not the smartest man in the world, nor am I the dumbest. I'm not special, or singular, or unique in any way. I have been completely ordinary. Every once in a while, though, I remember that feeling of standing on a precipice, like the world is my oyster. Those are the times that I turn on Kiss or The Sex Pistols. To remember more fully my youth. I stopped living when I was 16, and didn't realize it until 66 years later. I'm sorry this isn't longer, but if you were looking for something interesting, it might have been a good idea to read Kurt Vonnegut instead.
Things People Teach Me
It is amazing the things one remembers. A phrase, guidance, a helping hand. I recall a time my aunt told me that one should always take off his hat when entering a building. I am thankful for that advice now, especially since I'm missing the top of my head.
When I was in the hospital, I got a chance to talk to an octogenarian. He had lived a life not worth living, useless and weak. He didn't accomplish anything, just kinda was. His biggest regret was not moving anyone. I never got a chance to tell him that he had inspired me to live life to the fullest.
Every decision we make affects future decisions. We are never free from the burden of our past choices, and especially the consequences of those choices. All one can do is make believers of those around us that life is a beautiful, delicate flower, aching to be fully enjoyed.
I had a horrible accident that left me without the top of my skull. I need a plastic plate to cover and protect my brain. It's like living with a constant hard hat, a true brain bucket.
Kurt Vonnegut is my favorite writer. Though pessimistic, his dark humor left me desirous to not fulfill the view he had of society. It is a challenge to everyone to be more than they can be. Fuck being all you can be, be more. Be more, dammit!
Anger is a useless emotion based in fear. Happiness is the only pure emotion. Everything else takes and doesn't give anything back.
Hope is useless, as are dreams. Only living, taking things one day at a time, giving out free hugs will make the world a better place. My decisions left me in a hospital bed for 6 months, left me stewing with the destruction of my life, leaving me free to do anything. I had hit rock bottom, and it gave me my freedom.
You can't leave your hat on all the time. Bare yourself to people, bear their pain, give them the freedom you desire. Slavery is freedom. Slavery to the happiness and betterment of others. Kick them in the ass, get them moving, let them smell the flowers that opened your eyes to the beauty of everything. Be their personal Jesus.
Salvation from destruction, destructive forces, hate. Self hatred is a plague. An epidemic. It consumes and devours and leaves depression. My father told me once that the first time he saw me was the happiest moment of his life. Let humanity be your child, and watch it be borne into the fruition of the greatness of man.
Watch the growth of your friends' lives, revel in their joy. Honestly, life is shit without those around you to share it. Realize and capture this truth, because otherwise you're doing nothing but fighting quicksand.
Learn from those around you. It makes life bearable.
When I was in the hospital, I got a chance to talk to an octogenarian. He had lived a life not worth living, useless and weak. He didn't accomplish anything, just kinda was. His biggest regret was not moving anyone. I never got a chance to tell him that he had inspired me to live life to the fullest.
Every decision we make affects future decisions. We are never free from the burden of our past choices, and especially the consequences of those choices. All one can do is make believers of those around us that life is a beautiful, delicate flower, aching to be fully enjoyed.
I had a horrible accident that left me without the top of my skull. I need a plastic plate to cover and protect my brain. It's like living with a constant hard hat, a true brain bucket.
Kurt Vonnegut is my favorite writer. Though pessimistic, his dark humor left me desirous to not fulfill the view he had of society. It is a challenge to everyone to be more than they can be. Fuck being all you can be, be more. Be more, dammit!
Anger is a useless emotion based in fear. Happiness is the only pure emotion. Everything else takes and doesn't give anything back.
Hope is useless, as are dreams. Only living, taking things one day at a time, giving out free hugs will make the world a better place. My decisions left me in a hospital bed for 6 months, left me stewing with the destruction of my life, leaving me free to do anything. I had hit rock bottom, and it gave me my freedom.
You can't leave your hat on all the time. Bare yourself to people, bear their pain, give them the freedom you desire. Slavery is freedom. Slavery to the happiness and betterment of others. Kick them in the ass, get them moving, let them smell the flowers that opened your eyes to the beauty of everything. Be their personal Jesus.
Salvation from destruction, destructive forces, hate. Self hatred is a plague. An epidemic. It consumes and devours and leaves depression. My father told me once that the first time he saw me was the happiest moment of his life. Let humanity be your child, and watch it be borne into the fruition of the greatness of man.
Watch the growth of your friends' lives, revel in their joy. Honestly, life is shit without those around you to share it. Realize and capture this truth, because otherwise you're doing nothing but fighting quicksand.
Learn from those around you. It makes life bearable.
Fucking Retarded
Melancholy verses dance
From my keyboard to the screen.
Soft
Chill
Sweet music purrs from my headphones.
The dark room and utter seclusion
Belay this sense of loss.
The bitterest loss is that of almost.
Almost
So close.
So close to happiness.
What could have
And should have been.
But no!
She, instead, went nuts.
She fulfilled the stereotype
Of emotional maladjustment
To A Fucking “T”!
And hurt herself more than me.
That hurts more than anything;
To know you can bring a smile to someone's face
Light up their life
Make a difference
And have that swept aside
For no goddamn reason.
It is as if a person will only allow themselves one cookie,
Except its not a cookie,
Its fucking happiness.
They worry that if they grow attached to feeling good
It will leave them.
The person helping will leave them.
Its fucking bullshit,
And it fucking pisses me off.
Fuck that shit!
Be happy!
Do what makes you happy!
If its not me
Or him
Or yourself,
Than find out why!
To just blow it all off
Fucking blows.
A taste of happiness
Shouldn't be a sorbet
To cleanse the palate between courses of misery.
That's fucking retarded.
From my keyboard to the screen.
Soft
Chill
Sweet music purrs from my headphones.
The dark room and utter seclusion
Belay this sense of loss.
The bitterest loss is that of almost.
Almost
So close.
So close to happiness.
What could have
And should have been.
But no!
She, instead, went nuts.
She fulfilled the stereotype
Of emotional maladjustment
To A Fucking “T”!
And hurt herself more than me.
That hurts more than anything;
To know you can bring a smile to someone's face
Light up their life
Make a difference
And have that swept aside
For no goddamn reason.
It is as if a person will only allow themselves one cookie,
Except its not a cookie,
Its fucking happiness.
They worry that if they grow attached to feeling good
It will leave them.
The person helping will leave them.
Its fucking bullshit,
And it fucking pisses me off.
Fuck that shit!
Be happy!
Do what makes you happy!
If its not me
Or him
Or yourself,
Than find out why!
To just blow it all off
Fucking blows.
A taste of happiness
Shouldn't be a sorbet
To cleanse the palate between courses of misery.
That's fucking retarded.
Awe
This fucking bullshit is ridiculous to me
And can't you see
How this may be
A misunderstanding?
From where you are
And what you were
I don't know how you could be
So discourteous
And perturbeous
And generally unchill.
I wish you could stand where I am standing
And see what I am seeing
And feel what I am feeling.
I wish you could take the time
Out of your busy, busy life
And stop to smell the proverbial roses.
Look at life in a whole new light
A joyous delight
In each and every day;
Where the sun is shining
The breeze is blowing
The birds are singing.
A life
And year
And month
And day
And hour
You never will live again.
Stop and find that moment
That singular time
Where happiness halts your steps
And the wonderment
Of the beauty around you
Creates awe.
Stop
Look
Listen
Find life around and outside yourself.
Seek
What is sought will be found
And what is found, man
It will change your life.
And can't you see
How this may be
A misunderstanding?
From where you are
And what you were
I don't know how you could be
So discourteous
And perturbeous
And generally unchill.
I wish you could stand where I am standing
And see what I am seeing
And feel what I am feeling.
I wish you could take the time
Out of your busy, busy life
And stop to smell the proverbial roses.
Look at life in a whole new light
A joyous delight
In each and every day;
Where the sun is shining
The breeze is blowing
The birds are singing.
A life
And year
And month
And day
And hour
You never will live again.
Stop and find that moment
That singular time
Where happiness halts your steps
And the wonderment
Of the beauty around you
Creates awe.
Stop
Look
Listen
Find life around and outside yourself.
Seek
What is sought will be found
And what is found, man
It will change your life.
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