I'm currently waiting for my flight home for Thanksgiving and I've realized something. Whenever I fly home, I keep looking around in the terminal for people I know from home. The odds are probably pretty low that I'll see anyone I know going home on the same flight at the same airport on the same day, but I can't help glancing up whenever someone passes by. Maybe I'm just eager to see some of my friends.
It's odd though. Looking around at the faces of other college students returning to our shared hometown, and not recognizing any of them. Any one of them a potential acquaintance whom I'd never met or maybe had but never gotten to know. Out of a city of half a million people, I only know a relative handful. It's strange to think that I share my home predominantly with strangers.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Tonight
My roommate texted our friend. He was cool with us coming over to hang out; so we did. We joined our friend's roommate and watched Stripes for a bit. He then bought us both two forties of Mickey's each. While he was in the liquor store we went to the nearby Chinese food place. I bought a rice bowl with sweet and sour pork. He bought a combo plate with orange chicken. When we got back we continued to watch Stripes, but with Chinese food and forties.
During this time our friend's roommate taught us of brass monkey's; when one drinks a forty of malt liquor down to the point where it's a cylinder rather than a cone and then fill in the remaining space with orange juice. Me and my roommate did this with our second forties while our friend's roommate showed us some graphic design work and funny/weird/disturbing shit from the internet. During this time me and him smoked out of his bong but my roommate didn't because he's looking for a job.
A little bit after my roommate finished his second forty, my roommate, the three inhabitants of the apartment, and me left for a party they were invited to. As soon as we exited the apartment we witnessed the epic greatness that was twelve other people from the apartment complex beating each other up with foam lacrosse nets. The guy who bought us alcohol had me go to his room and turn on some fight music for them, since he was already smoking cigarettes with my roommate who only smokes them when he's drunk.
On the way to the party I took the remainder of my brass monkey with me; tucked under my coat. One of our friend's pointed out that this stuck out and would be noticeable once we hit a busier and better lit street. I let him and my roommate have a little but still wasn't able to finish what was left. So after we crossed the tracks I left the bottle in a bush outside an apartment complex--told everyone else I had finished it. We spent the rest of the way playing a harmonica I had brought with me.
We found our way to the house where the party was. Two beer pong tables, one out front and one in the garage, and a keg. I watched the game outside and had a conversation with a stranger who's name I can't remember. After a bit one of my group reminded me there was a keg. I grabbed a cup from under the pong table and filled it. I spent most of our time there sipping from my cup while sitting on a stool by the outdoor pong table. My friends were playing on the indoor one. My roommate went a few houses down to talk to a friend of his.
When he came back he went straight into the garage; I watched him walk by. I went inside to use the bathroom but when I opened the door some guy was sitting on the pot. I apologized, closed the door, and moved far enough away from the bathroom entrance that I hoped I wouldn't have to bump into him when he finished.
Near the front door a girl, whom I'd earlier seen do a kegstand, asked if I'd seen her friends. I let her know there was some guy in the downstairs bathroom. She said there was a dog in the upstairs room so we went. When we opened a door there was a guy and a girl on the bed who quickly broke apart. The guy jokingly commented that nothing was going on. There was a dog in there, for whom I put down my cup of beer so I could hug him.
After a bit of talking the girl who led me up there let me know there was a bathroom upstairs. I grabbed my cup and we walked to it. She let me go first. I closed the door, but my cup on top of the toilet, and pissed. I noticed there was no toilet paper and I also remembered to put the seat down.
When I walked out she thanked me for putting the seat down--she must of heard it. I let her know there was no toilet paper and we did a quick search through the cabinets but found none. She said she'd be fine so she went in and I went back downstairs. I met up with my posse down there. They told me the keg was tapped so I gave my beer to my roommate and he finished it. I took the cup and put it on top of the opened garage door that hung parallel to the ground.
As we walked away my roommate asked if I wanted to go back to our friend's place or straight to ours. I said I didn't care. So he told our friend if he could carry him for ten seconds we would come to his place. He succeeded. I've carried my roommate a few times so I asked to try and beat our friend. I stumbled forward and fell at nine and a half seconds. Our friend who bought for us got a total of twelve seconds right after me. For a bit of the way back we passed the harmonica around again.
We pooled some money together for a bottle of vodka--I threw in a buck and some change. On the way there I broke from the group, telling them I'd catch up, and went into the gas station store for some food. I decided on a tollhouse cookie ice cream sandwich. As I purchased it the guy at the register told me about how his friend's were having a party but he had to stay here and work. I told him we just got back from a party. He asked why I didn't invite him. I reminded him that I didn't know him and he conceided this to be a good point.
As I walked out, chomping on my delicious sandwich, I thought I heard my group calling for me but they were to far away to see. I made my way to the street that lead across the tracks. As I finished my sandwich I saw them and garnered their attention via yelling and waving. They yelled something derogatory at me and I crossed the street to get to them but they crossed at the same time to fuck with me. I crossed back again and someone said I one.
As we walked past the push I left my forty in I grabbed it. I finished it and dumped the bottle as we crossed the track--the bouncing of glass on gravel being a bit loud. As we stumbled back in to our apartment we bumped into a few of the foam lacrosse warriors from earlier. After a few of us, not me, took a shot of vodka we played a game of lacrosse tha mostly inolved hitting each other--even after we lost the ball.
We then started to watch Stripes from the beginning again. As I laughed at what I'd just seen, I wondered where my roommate was. He was sitting in the corner; I could hear but couldn't see him. He asked if I wanted to go home. I told him whenever he was ready. He then crawled outside. I went out to check on him but only heard, not saw, him vomiting. I asked him if he wanted some water and he said yes so, I brought it to him.
As we left someone else went outside to clear out the pipes via his mouth. After we passed the school my roommate stole a traffic cone he found. Needing to one-up him I picked up a chunk of a fence I saw in someone's front lawn and carried it the rest of the way back. I put it down and pretended to text whenever a car passed--in case it was police. As we neared our complex my roommate said the car that went by belonged to another friend of ours.
When we got into our complex I noticed a car with it's rear lights on and I knew it had to be our friend who had passed us earlier. It was and she was with a group of people including my girlfriend's roommate. She exclaimed in an asking tone why I was holding a fence and then she realized it was me and freaked out. She said something about what my girlfriend would think and the group in general made declarations of my insanity.
We stumbled the rest of the way and dumped the loot outside our place, planning to wash it off and decide where to put it in the morning. My roommate went to bed and I decided to record the night before I forgot it. As I typed this out I watched the end of an Ellen Degeneres stand-up special, the entirety of Titan A. E., and about half of Juno, all on HBO. It's six in the morning. I'm going to bed.
This was written the night it happened. I may release it in a revised form later.
During this time our friend's roommate taught us of brass monkey's; when one drinks a forty of malt liquor down to the point where it's a cylinder rather than a cone and then fill in the remaining space with orange juice. Me and my roommate did this with our second forties while our friend's roommate showed us some graphic design work and funny/weird/disturbing shit from the internet. During this time me and him smoked out of his bong but my roommate didn't because he's looking for a job.
A little bit after my roommate finished his second forty, my roommate, the three inhabitants of the apartment, and me left for a party they were invited to. As soon as we exited the apartment we witnessed the epic greatness that was twelve other people from the apartment complex beating each other up with foam lacrosse nets. The guy who bought us alcohol had me go to his room and turn on some fight music for them, since he was already smoking cigarettes with my roommate who only smokes them when he's drunk.
On the way to the party I took the remainder of my brass monkey with me; tucked under my coat. One of our friend's pointed out that this stuck out and would be noticeable once we hit a busier and better lit street. I let him and my roommate have a little but still wasn't able to finish what was left. So after we crossed the tracks I left the bottle in a bush outside an apartment complex--told everyone else I had finished it. We spent the rest of the way playing a harmonica I had brought with me.
We found our way to the house where the party was. Two beer pong tables, one out front and one in the garage, and a keg. I watched the game outside and had a conversation with a stranger who's name I can't remember. After a bit one of my group reminded me there was a keg. I grabbed a cup from under the pong table and filled it. I spent most of our time there sipping from my cup while sitting on a stool by the outdoor pong table. My friends were playing on the indoor one. My roommate went a few houses down to talk to a friend of his.
When he came back he went straight into the garage; I watched him walk by. I went inside to use the bathroom but when I opened the door some guy was sitting on the pot. I apologized, closed the door, and moved far enough away from the bathroom entrance that I hoped I wouldn't have to bump into him when he finished.
Near the front door a girl, whom I'd earlier seen do a kegstand, asked if I'd seen her friends. I let her know there was some guy in the downstairs bathroom. She said there was a dog in the upstairs room so we went. When we opened a door there was a guy and a girl on the bed who quickly broke apart. The guy jokingly commented that nothing was going on. There was a dog in there, for whom I put down my cup of beer so I could hug him.
After a bit of talking the girl who led me up there let me know there was a bathroom upstairs. I grabbed my cup and we walked to it. She let me go first. I closed the door, but my cup on top of the toilet, and pissed. I noticed there was no toilet paper and I also remembered to put the seat down.
When I walked out she thanked me for putting the seat down--she must of heard it. I let her know there was no toilet paper and we did a quick search through the cabinets but found none. She said she'd be fine so she went in and I went back downstairs. I met up with my posse down there. They told me the keg was tapped so I gave my beer to my roommate and he finished it. I took the cup and put it on top of the opened garage door that hung parallel to the ground.
As we walked away my roommate asked if I wanted to go back to our friend's place or straight to ours. I said I didn't care. So he told our friend if he could carry him for ten seconds we would come to his place. He succeeded. I've carried my roommate a few times so I asked to try and beat our friend. I stumbled forward and fell at nine and a half seconds. Our friend who bought for us got a total of twelve seconds right after me. For a bit of the way back we passed the harmonica around again.
We pooled some money together for a bottle of vodka--I threw in a buck and some change. On the way there I broke from the group, telling them I'd catch up, and went into the gas station store for some food. I decided on a tollhouse cookie ice cream sandwich. As I purchased it the guy at the register told me about how his friend's were having a party but he had to stay here and work. I told him we just got back from a party. He asked why I didn't invite him. I reminded him that I didn't know him and he conceided this to be a good point.
As I walked out, chomping on my delicious sandwich, I thought I heard my group calling for me but they were to far away to see. I made my way to the street that lead across the tracks. As I finished my sandwich I saw them and garnered their attention via yelling and waving. They yelled something derogatory at me and I crossed the street to get to them but they crossed at the same time to fuck with me. I crossed back again and someone said I one.
As we walked past the push I left my forty in I grabbed it. I finished it and dumped the bottle as we crossed the track--the bouncing of glass on gravel being a bit loud. As we stumbled back in to our apartment we bumped into a few of the foam lacrosse warriors from earlier. After a few of us, not me, took a shot of vodka we played a game of lacrosse tha mostly inolved hitting each other--even after we lost the ball.
We then started to watch Stripes from the beginning again. As I laughed at what I'd just seen, I wondered where my roommate was. He was sitting in the corner; I could hear but couldn't see him. He asked if I wanted to go home. I told him whenever he was ready. He then crawled outside. I went out to check on him but only heard, not saw, him vomiting. I asked him if he wanted some water and he said yes so, I brought it to him.
As we left someone else went outside to clear out the pipes via his mouth. After we passed the school my roommate stole a traffic cone he found. Needing to one-up him I picked up a chunk of a fence I saw in someone's front lawn and carried it the rest of the way back. I put it down and pretended to text whenever a car passed--in case it was police. As we neared our complex my roommate said the car that went by belonged to another friend of ours.
When we got into our complex I noticed a car with it's rear lights on and I knew it had to be our friend who had passed us earlier. It was and she was with a group of people including my girlfriend's roommate. She exclaimed in an asking tone why I was holding a fence and then she realized it was me and freaked out. She said something about what my girlfriend would think and the group in general made declarations of my insanity.
We stumbled the rest of the way and dumped the loot outside our place, planning to wash it off and decide where to put it in the morning. My roommate went to bed and I decided to record the night before I forgot it. As I typed this out I watched the end of an Ellen Degeneres stand-up special, the entirety of Titan A. E., and about half of Juno, all on HBO. It's six in the morning. I'm going to bed.
This was written the night it happened. I may release it in a revised form later.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Last Night's Nightmare
I don't remember why but I was chasing after him with one of those big knives most people use for cutting meat and vegetables in the kitchen. He was running, and rightly so, because I had no intention of letting him live. It was for some just reason or another. I pursued him from the kitchen to a staircase which he ascended impossibly fast.
From the top of the stairs he reached for something I couldn't see until he held it up and grinned. And from the bottom of the stairs I looked in terror at the knife he held and the intention in his eyes. His knife was also of the kitchen variety, yet thinner, longer, and curved along the edge and back like a saber. He lunges down the stairs and laughs maniacally. I black out.
My eyes open; in the dream. Not in reality. I'm still at the bottom of the stairs and I'm unharmed. Lying next to me is not the knife I had before but on of those small, dull knifes we use to eat our dinner. I walk around the house looking for something I can actually use to defend myself. Wherever I look the potential weapons have been replaced with the same kind of knife I awoke with. I find my sister reading on the couch; unworried and undisturbed.
I figure he must have left. But I walk into the living room and I know he is behind me. I turn to see him holding both of the deadly kitchen knives from before. He grins and releases a light chuckle which sends my falling over myself into the kitchen and on the floor. On my back, staring at him as he approaches, fear is causing me to breath loudly, heavily, and quickly--working my way up to a terrible scream. He lunges at my fallen self-- both blades driving towards my chest.
I awake; into reality this time. My girlfriend asks if I'm okay and comments on my strange breathing up till I awoke. I assure her I'm okay. She falls back asleep and likely forgets altogether. But I have to give one long, slow scan of my room before I can rest. I need to make sure there are no crazed men with knives waiting for me to let my guard down. I consider locking the door, but write it off as silly and fall back asleep.
From the top of the stairs he reached for something I couldn't see until he held it up and grinned. And from the bottom of the stairs I looked in terror at the knife he held and the intention in his eyes. His knife was also of the kitchen variety, yet thinner, longer, and curved along the edge and back like a saber. He lunges down the stairs and laughs maniacally. I black out.
My eyes open; in the dream. Not in reality. I'm still at the bottom of the stairs and I'm unharmed. Lying next to me is not the knife I had before but on of those small, dull knifes we use to eat our dinner. I walk around the house looking for something I can actually use to defend myself. Wherever I look the potential weapons have been replaced with the same kind of knife I awoke with. I find my sister reading on the couch; unworried and undisturbed.
I figure he must have left. But I walk into the living room and I know he is behind me. I turn to see him holding both of the deadly kitchen knives from before. He grins and releases a light chuckle which sends my falling over myself into the kitchen and on the floor. On my back, staring at him as he approaches, fear is causing me to breath loudly, heavily, and quickly--working my way up to a terrible scream. He lunges at my fallen self-- both blades driving towards my chest.
I awake; into reality this time. My girlfriend asks if I'm okay and comments on my strange breathing up till I awoke. I assure her I'm okay. She falls back asleep and likely forgets altogether. But I have to give one long, slow scan of my room before I can rest. I need to make sure there are no crazed men with knives waiting for me to let my guard down. I consider locking the door, but write it off as silly and fall back asleep.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Our Last Breath
When the nukes go off all around the world--so many flying through the air that all the Earth will be in its last night--we will panic, and fight, and pray, and kill, and love. And as we hear and see the missiles descend, we will know there is no reason to worry since there's nothing left for us to do. No need to worry about tomorrow, about work, about relationships, about life. And just before the bombs go off, the planet Earth will breath one big, synchronized breath of relief.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
First Blog
We wonder why we're here on this Earth; because clearly there is a purpose. What cruel god would create conscious life without giving it a clear an obvious purpose in living? Who would make life just to see what happens?
Who but ourselves? And if we're modeled in god's image, then surely god must also have this need for experiment; for testing; for amusement. So why should we have a purpose? If we would create life without reason, then why wouldn't that which we're modeled after?
Who but ourselves? And if we're modeled in god's image, then surely god must also have this need for experiment; for testing; for amusement. So why should we have a purpose? If we would create life without reason, then why wouldn't that which we're modeled after?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)