| | Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-pahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhl.
There were various points during this Spring Break when I got all worried about life. I worried about how Maywood Park didn't have recycling bins. I worried about love squares. I worried about Winter 2008 (which is just absurd, considering it's the first week of April). I worried about my brother possibly turning into a Christian. I worried that I wouldn't be a happy graduate in May. I worried about my dog eating my brother's explosives as she chased their flames in our backyard. I worried that Alex would have 99999999 aneurysms for reasons that even I don't even know sometimes. I worried that I would get caught up in the heat of the moment and quit my job on the spot. I worried that I would spend all of my money on coffee mugs at the thrift store. I worried that I had bronchitis. I worried that I would never quit smoking because I'm so fucking addicted. I worried that George Bouchard may never call me ever again, and I'm not sure why. I worried that Mike would excommunicate me YET AGAIN for seeing me ride my bike out of Alex's garage after I had promised him a lunch date. I worried that I had already seen all my favorite movies, read all my favorite books, and heard all my favorite songs.
Then I realized, no matter how fucking lame my life has gotten, no matter how many lovers have tried to tame me (sounds HILARIOUS, but it's true!), no matter how terrible recycling laws are in the United States, no matter how out of control my friends become, no matter how many coffee mugs circa 1972 litter my kitchen cabinets... I will never stop learning. I'll never stop appreciating the beauty life has to offer. I'll never stop living.
Sounds like hippie bullshit, but people never cease to amaze me. Even when the carbon copies obstruct my vision, and I use humor as a weapon to attack the Jokers of this world... I'm still interested. I'm still sympathetic. I'm still trying my best to understand where you're all coming from. I'm also not trying to end sentences with prepositions, but Mrs. Schull can vouch for me when I say "fuck that."
I was an only child for seven years. I'm a Ukrainian Sicilian mix, purely by chance, a mix of apathy and overwhelming responsibility, family ties and runaways, art and labor, blood and wine. I'm nondescript enough to escape the pages of your social textbooks, without fading too far into the back of your brain. I'm not sure at what I'm trying to get... but I know that it's going to be great, no matter what. I simply cannot not have a good time. I cannot exclude humor from any aspect of my life. I just wish I rubbed off more on people. I just wish I realized all this when I was in seventh grade, miserably twelve years old, greasy bangs and skateboard shoes, hoodies and thick eyebrows, head shrinks and detentions, essays and ISATS, hidden smiles and Big Gulp salutes.
I wish I would have realized this last fall, being infatuated with Jeff. Treating Kalnins like crap. Running away from everything on a blue mountain bike!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Overall, Spring Break was nice. I went to the track and bet on horses. I went to a gay party with gay music, and actually had a good time. I reunited with my old best friend, Alex. I sang "Brass in Pocket" probably a thousand times. I actually saw Sax for more than five minutes.
Each day I posted a picture. That picture was supposed to reflect my mood/feelings. But it just ended up being aesthetically pleasing.
My mom and I also have started having real people conversations, rather than me just trying to shock her/make her laugh. It's so great.
Apparently Dad doesn't believe in a Heaven or a Hell. Maybe he should listen to Modest Mouse.
Free as a bird.
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| | Posted 4/5/2008 11:44 AM - 64 views - 1 comments
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