Because it's nearly three in the morning, and I'm not getting any weirder
That isn't strictly true. I am getting weirder. Just not right now. I think if hit my quotient for the day.
I am at a dilemma-point. I am nearly finished with law school, and I have absolutely no idea what comes next. I don't really want to be a lawyer. At least, I don't think I do. Not right now, anyway.
Unfortunately, "Jedi" is pretty much out as a career path; "Supermodel Dentist" is closer to my grasp at this point.
My life has devolved into a series of predictable and ultimately unfulfilling episodes. Wake up, piss, fart, shower, dress, leave apartment, forget something in apartment, go back, leave apartment, go to class, play FreeCell during lecture, eat, go to class, come home, eat, watch tv, masturbate.
Rinse and repeat. And don't forget to wash behind your ears and between your toes, darling.
I never go out anymore. I never meet new people. I never spend my nights drunk and dancing with random women to crappy hip hop anymore. (Yeah, I actually used to do that for a time...) I eat McDonald's because it's next door, and I think I'm going to win the Monopoly game. I smoke Marlboro Lights, because I can't handle anything harsher anymore. Hell, my lungs can hardly take the Lights these days. I joined a gym, and haven't been since Rosh Hashana.
When was the last time I got blind, stinking drunk amongst true friends? When was the last time I spoke eloquently? When was the last time I wasn't pissed off at something I have no possible way to change?
Why do I wish I still had my old friends around, even though everyone's moved on and forgotten each other? Why does that happen? You spend four or five years doing absolutely everything with a group of loving, like-minded individuals, knowing how lucky you are to have made yourself such a wonderful place in the universe, and then it all goes away.
Friend Entropy, the slow moving-apart of individuals. You never consciously decide to stop speaking to each other. Life happens, gets in the way, makes you care less, and makes you careless.
And then, one afternoon, you wake up to find yourself in a new city, with new friends. But they really aren't friends, they're the people you spend your day with, wishing you had your friends. But they're miles away, living lives without you.
You like to think to yourself that they miss you as much as you miss them, but you know better. Don't you? If they think about you, it's only in the context of a story told to one of their new friends, and instead of having a name, you're "this guy I went to school with."
Where's the romance in that?
It's melancholy bullshit that keeps me going these days. Day in, breathe out. Keep it coming, because I'm on a roll. Don't throw me a curveball, or I'll miss it and be back on the bench, watching everyone else play the game.
So I'm playing the game. I just wish I knew whose team I'm playing on.
I am at a dilemma-point. I am nearly finished with law school, and I have absolutely no idea what comes next. I don't really want to be a lawyer. At least, I don't think I do. Not right now, anyway.
Unfortunately, "Jedi" is pretty much out as a career path; "Supermodel Dentist" is closer to my grasp at this point.
My life has devolved into a series of predictable and ultimately unfulfilling episodes. Wake up, piss, fart, shower, dress, leave apartment, forget something in apartment, go back, leave apartment, go to class, play FreeCell during lecture, eat, go to class, come home, eat, watch tv, masturbate.
Rinse and repeat. And don't forget to wash behind your ears and between your toes, darling.
I never go out anymore. I never meet new people. I never spend my nights drunk and dancing with random women to crappy hip hop anymore. (Yeah, I actually used to do that for a time...) I eat McDonald's because it's next door, and I think I'm going to win the Monopoly game. I smoke Marlboro Lights, because I can't handle anything harsher anymore. Hell, my lungs can hardly take the Lights these days. I joined a gym, and haven't been since Rosh Hashana.
When was the last time I got blind, stinking drunk amongst true friends? When was the last time I spoke eloquently? When was the last time I wasn't pissed off at something I have no possible way to change?
Why do I wish I still had my old friends around, even though everyone's moved on and forgotten each other? Why does that happen? You spend four or five years doing absolutely everything with a group of loving, like-minded individuals, knowing how lucky you are to have made yourself such a wonderful place in the universe, and then it all goes away.
Friend Entropy, the slow moving-apart of individuals. You never consciously decide to stop speaking to each other. Life happens, gets in the way, makes you care less, and makes you careless.
And then, one afternoon, you wake up to find yourself in a new city, with new friends. But they really aren't friends, they're the people you spend your day with, wishing you had your friends. But they're miles away, living lives without you.
You like to think to yourself that they miss you as much as you miss them, but you know better. Don't you? If they think about you, it's only in the context of a story told to one of their new friends, and instead of having a name, you're "this guy I went to school with."
Where's the romance in that?
It's melancholy bullshit that keeps me going these days. Day in, breathe out. Keep it coming, because I'm on a roll. Don't throw me a curveball, or I'll miss it and be back on the bench, watching everyone else play the game.
So I'm playing the game. I just wish I knew whose team I'm playing on.
posted by StofCircumstance at 2:44 AM
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