Ten MonthsI posted the thing on philosphy and noticed that I'd been gone for ten months. That's slightly shorter than one year. A lot of things have happened in that time. If there are any people out there who know me only thru my website, this is for you. Anyone else, there isn't anything here that you shouldn't already know. If there is, talk to me more.The Third FloorI got a new job. That was awhile ago. I've been working there for (please wait: counting on fingers) six months now. It's the youth center that I used to go to as a little kid. Now in a different location than when I went, I take care of little kids (play with them). We have foosball and pool and Nintendo and stuff. I'm making the website for the place, which should be done any day now. I'll link it when I'm finished.Except for cleaning and concessions, I have a pretty fun time there. I work with some fun people and kids (though some of them actively try to be annoying (I admire that)). They're like the little brothers and sisters I never had. The kids, not the staff. We might be closing down unless funding can be "found". As if it would be stumbled across. I may write something more about TTF later, especially if we close (it is always better and safer to write about things in the past). ClaireDo you remember her? The girl in the photo gallery? I wish now that I hadn't taken so many pictures. There wasn't a lawsuit or anything: we started dating. If I had started writing when it had first begun, this may have been a happy entry. She's in France though, and won't be back for five months. If you're reading this Claire, I love you. Everyone else can go fuck off.The pictures only serve to remind me of what I've lost. Which is everything. I put on my happy face in public, then go home and cry to myself. Sarcasm and humor seem to work as my best defense mechanisms though. I got a letter today (opened a letter today) from her. It was about a month out of date (the mail goes slow across the Atlantic). That didn't help my emotional state. It was also Valentine's Day. That didn't help either. I feel like shit and the only thing I can do is analyze and write to keep from breaking down. It's 2:29 in the morning. Do you know where your happiness is? The response I always want to give to the question, "How's Claire doing?" is, "Shut the fuck up and mind your own business." That isn't socially acceptable though, so I go thru the motions of telling them what they feel they have a right to know. The times I hate most are the ones that I spend not thinking about her. I'll get wrapped up in whatever I'm doing and start having fun. Then I feel like I've betrayed her somehow. Or I think about how it would be better if she were here. Or I think that she is there and am crushed by the realization that she isn't. Then there are the dreams. I'll be with her, and then things get fucked up. She transforms into someone else, or she leaves, or I wake up. Either way, the ending is never nice. She always seems to whisper cryptic clues in my ear before the end. I never remember what they are. Don't ever try to talk to me about Claire. This is your one and only warning. I reserve the right to puch you or kick you or break you in anyway I can accomplish. If I want to talk, I'll do it on my own terms (such as right now). Don't think that it gives you a right to reciprocate. 18I now officially qualify as a barely legal teen.Thirteen days ago I became an adult by legal standards. I can buy cigarettes, porn, firearms, and will vote in the 2004 presidential election. Additionally, I will be graduating soon. Woot! SchoolThis is my senior slack year. I'm trying to get thru on the least number of effective man-hours possible. That means that I'm taking school bank, art, and computer science.Computer science is one of the coolest classes I've every taken, if a little slow paced and simplistic (though I'm sure I'll long for those days once in college). It is my intention to be better at QBASIC than my teacher by the end of the course. I know that this will probably end like all of my other obsessions, with apathy and unfufilled promises. History repeats itself. I sometimes wonder why I don't change my ways. Then I realize that this is life how I prefer it: predictable. It may just be that I repeat my actions for a sense of place, of belonging, instead of that being the nature of life. That probably wasn't a breakthru. HaloI bought an Xbox after Christmas. I've been wasting my life in front of it. Then again, what else am I gonna do with it? I suppose I could study hard and get good grades to go to college and work hard there and get money to buy happiness. . .. I'm a sucker for propoganda though. I've been taught that money is the root of all evil and that money can't buy love and other such Beatles lyrics. Time goes faster while bleaching your skin in the light of a cathode-ray tube. it helps me to deal with this horrible deppression, not to mention my rising feelings of inadequecy.Me and my friends have sixteen player Halo parties. Not much compares to the streams of obscenity unleashed when you drop the flag ten meters from your base. The rivalry between teams helps to overshadow the problems your own team has. Aldous Huxley wrote, "One of the primary purposes of friends is so we can inflict upon them the damage we would like to do to our enemies." I think he had it backwards. The reason we have enemies is to inflict upon them the damage we would like to inflict upon our friends. Laters. |