Remember when I fell 15 stories? I'll tell 15 more.
I. trust me, though. tomorrow you will NOT wake up next to emerson OR thoreau.
I'm walking down the sidewalk with my friend Peter, and approach this perfectly shaped maple leaf. Peter's talking. This leaf is the color of every aesthetic aspect of autumn. It's gold in the center and fades to a vibrant red at the edges. Peter's still talking. I have to pick it up, keep it somewhere forever, but as soon as I stop to do so, a boy about my age, with brown hair just long enough to be tied back and a Beck circa 1995 mien, kneels before me and picks up the leaf, and admires it as he keeps walking, then puts it in his flannel pocket. I laugh inside. Peter keeps talking.
II. how the quadratic formula began the progression of my day getting better
I came across a totally wicked equation that I couldn't factor for the life of me. I almost cried my eyes out of their sockets, but then I thought wait one fucking second. I can use the quadratic equation. and I did. and it freaking worked! and at that very moment a hand was placed on my left shoulder and I heard "RAAAWR!" Joe and Tara were standing behind me! in my very own bedroom! And the carne asada on the grill smells phenomenal. what's a podcast?
IV. Friday, the Fucking Phenomenal.
We're in Ikea, Joe and I, and we hear this perpetual beeping. Oh, God. What is it? The alarm clocks. It's the alarm clocks. It's the sea of SNAJDA alarm clocks inside of that bin. It's coming from the bottom. Joe says, Now we have to find it, and thus begins our journey, our search for the origin of the muffled beep. At first, we maniacally burrow through the plastic cubes the sound gets both louder and stifled as we push each of the million aside, ten at a time. And all the while, we're pushing aside time. For a brief moment, quitting seems the only markable option But the lack of silence, the beeping shatters any notion of resign. I can't tell if its constant tone is playing the role of an ambitiously sought objective, or simply mocking us. I stand back. Things are getting intense. Joe's desire to find it becomes more ardent with each passing second. I listen to the background music as a familiar piano melody plays from the store speakers. Lights go out and I can't be seen Tides that I tried to swim against Have put me down upon my knees Oh I beg, I beg and plead "Joe," I tap his shoulder, "the song that's playing." "....Clocks." It's destiny. Before the last chorus, he reaches down and pulls up the glorious thing. The Clock.
V. despite the fact that my pig fetus is rotting into nothingness
Okay, so I pretty much orgasmed today in Algebra upon learning about "Pascal's Triangle" That's about it.
VI. the repetitive routine of each recurring day
i had this dream. i dreamt words words in phrases I'd never seen that changed the world at least, it could have been but when i awoke i couldn't remember a single thing.
VII. I hate eggs, no matter what they feed my brain, so I won't fucking eat them
I spent the last ten minutes glancing at review packets and crap but I remember NOTHING from this past year and all I can hear is John's voice from the end of summer telling me that this is the year that counts but it's always been physically impossible for me to focus on anything so now I have to learn a semester's worth of eleventh grade in less than two days which I have a feeling will be the death of me because I spent too much of this semester having sex with random people to have learned anything that actually matters. God, I hate everyone.
VIII. david bowie as a new reason to be alive on a day of a thousand small victories.
personally, I prefer these things. it's like contemplating that the word "weird" is, in fact, spelled weirdly, ignoring vital rules of punctuation, finding an old picture in the pocket of pants that haven't been worn since the previous century, thinking about bears kissing. that's a nice one, being obnoxiously vague in a blog entry, there's another. I'll tell you what it isn't like. It isn't like hearing someone say "anyways" or pronounce "pillow" like it's spelled "pellow"
My point is that it's a very good thing.
IX. a stray dog at what felt like midnight on a rocky beach somewhere
I wrote all my confessions in the sand because I knew they would be erased by morning and I drew an ampersand because it looked like a guy masturbating.
X. another of the juvenile thoughts that blossoms upon momentary vanity
Some people set clocks ahead
Most set them on time
But me, I'd hate to lose my head
So I'll stay an hour behind
XI. attention all planets of the solar federation. we have assumed control.
the concept of public schooling is so strange to me. summer vacations are weird. the thought of a single infinitely expanding universe is a fucking trip. the internet is basically an entire universe at the tips of my fingers. foreign languages are incredible. music is organized sound travelling through time or something like it, and that's insane. the human body is 206 bones, 4 types of tissue, and billions of cells more than just complex. and for some reason, all my honors class discusses is whether or not we agree with banal proverbs like "you can't judge a book by its cover."
XII. the secondmost important level of the food pyramid takes a stand.
Every year, the junior class presents a Spring dance called "Backwards", an equivalence to what most know as a "Sadie Hawkins" dance. Yesterday a class meeting was held for active students to vote on the theme of the dance. William Duncan (previously named my saviour) suggested that the theme be "Vegetable" Most of the people at the meeting voted for it. Victory. HOWEVER ASB Leader, Rosa Flores , IGNORING the fact that this is a DEMOCRACY and a MAJORITY RULES, decided to make it so that the theme is NOT "Vegetable" It is, in fact, "A Night in Paradise" (tropical or something) The last homecoming dance was Tropical. The senior prom is going to be tropical. So what am I to do? Fucking take action, that's what. I'm petitioning this shit, I'm going to take care of it. I'm Carmen. I might even prepare a presentation. I don't know. I just need some signatures. Support Please?
XIII. the law of gravity, and stuff
There was a little boy outside the school asking had I seen Isaac?
. . .No.
And so ended our ephemeral association.
In a room of steel
I look at my reflection
And I have no eyes.
XV. The elevator broke.