My intention with this little bit o' the web is to try to put out some ideas or helpful insights that I hope I am having...However, last night was insane enough to warrant a recantation in cyberspace.
Damn! So apparantly graduation is not the squaring time that I thought it would. As it turns out, it only takes a couple housewarming parties to really get thing going: I ended up taking a roomate to the hospital at 3:30 in the morn, blasted off my face...Thanks much to the kind other more sober roomate to actually take us there; the walk would have been obsecene and dangerous, which is fantastic when you are drunk and looking for trouble, but not so fresh when you are drunk and trying to staunch the flow of your neighbors blood out of his body. Any way, this little trip (I will spare you all the drinking stories, if you are reading this you probably know me, so insert your own story here___________________) lasted until about 8 in the morn, and with work at 10:30, you can imagine what kind of day this has been.
I mean seriously, how many panes of glass need to be shattered, show many houses need we be banned from, how many trips to the freakin' hosptial does it take? Seriously, there only seem to be a few types of drinking stories: those that involve bodily injury, objects getting destroyed, ...and then I fucked her/him, I've never seen ____ do ____ that before. So where does that leave us? Boredom. That's right, it's really strange, but I guess that such chaos actually is becoming mundane. The apologies that don't actually fit, but work because all of the involved parties have been in their own brick dumb maneuvers themselves, the zombie like faces as we cannot help but mope as the pounding in our heads is eclipsed only by some monkey or another screaming for some soma, the realization that there aren't actually words for this type of thing except *$#@*^$#(*^&%, it is a routine like any other. So I guess I am forced to question just how cool it actually is to have a nightime guy that attempts to brutalize daytime guy. Everyone has their own bag, and for some it is absolutely self-induced retardation. And by the way I'm pretty sure the 'squares' hate us as much as we despise them: it all just another face of the larger die that tumbles around as our world
So I guess what having drag someone through uptown with the patient fighting the whole way through has taught me is that folks, we are only a step removed from the animals, and unleashing our inner beast too much really just leads to disaster.
I know, I know, I have just been hammering on the things that ostensibly define me currently as a person, and I think that it is necessarry. Patterns in any way, be they ruts or paradigms or whatever else need to be continually looked at, for in routine we have a word that defines it's most negative outcome, cloying. Look it up, you really should, because I think in that word is the most horrendous thing that can happen to a person: losing a pleasure for the worst reason imaginable. And this applies to ues all, and I think that this little problem need to be looked at and crushed like the rainforest.
I don't know, do what you want, but if there is one thing that I know how to do better than anyone else it looking before leaping, and think that the occasional peek will end up saving a whole lot of hassle and untold missteps. That said, I'm pretty damn tired. I'm out.
No comments:
Post a Comment