Wednesday, October 27, 2010


Oh reminiscing stories, how you haunt me.

Since apparently James, Bishop, and I are the only ones who pay attention to this blog (with the possibly notable exception of Liz), I suppose it is my turn to post. I say that because James was the last post, and Bishop is too self conscience to post on his own blog. Some of you might wonder how I know that Bishop still comes on here. I assume those people either don't know me, or don't know Bishop (most likely both).

In any case (or, as the case may be) we are in college. It's a little weird, admittedly. I skip a lot of class (shocker) and need to write an essay tonight (only 5-6 pages, due tomorrow [edit: later today]). I assume the rest of you are still procrastinators and slackers as well. I have a job making lots of money, but I am looking for another [different?] one. James has a job making a little bit of money. I'm sure their is a constant search for another one. Bishop doesn't have a job, doesn't care about one (I assume. I don't know these things for a fact).

We each went to a different college. Who would have guessed that? Who would have guessed that James would go to the place with the liberals. Who would have guessed that Bishop would go somewhere far enough way from his parents that he could drink mountain dew every night, but not so far that it would cost a bagillion dollars? Who would have guessed that the non-IB kid would go to a second rate public school, rather than the higher class school like his two best friends.

Who would ever know that the least of the three isn't even considering a transfer. Weird. Does he like mediocrity? It's hard to tell. Maybe it's the hassle of moving again, or the view of something the world doesn't [can't?] see.

I think I know your [our] deepest fears. I think I know your [our] darkest nights.:

I want to be profound. I want to write something beautiful exceptionally sad. Something people will remember. I don’t what it is, or what it means, what people think about it. Just as long as they think about it. Does that sound crazy? Does it sound overrated, insane? I just want someone to think what I said was important.

Wouldn't it be cruel if I was wrong. Wrong about everything, the things I thought, felt. Wrong about what my life meant [doesn't mean]. That's frightening.

One with many dreams has also many un-lived lives. I am facing the burden of the un-lived life. The time when I like what I am doing now, but wish I could do that and that and that. The Jack of many trades, and expert at all.


What a question. Children ask it, and never learn the answer. Why?

Why are we here? Why? Why can't I? Why? Why wont you? Why? Why? Why?

Life's a whore, but she is totally doable. (and so can you)

On a side note, why the fuck haven't you guys come up with some master plan to go camping in the fucking woods or something? Do I have to do all the planning in the fucking relationship? What about my needs? What about what I want?!!?

-Some guy


Anonymous said...

Interesting. Wait..what the hell does rake have anything to do with it?

chickenboy said...

Rake has nothing to do with it. My titles, traditionally, have had nothing to do with the content of the posts. By traditionally, I mean "never."