be back soon
I’ve been feeling lost lately, like I’ve lost a sense of direction in my head. I’m in the car right now, the others are watching one of those terrible animated comedy shows in decline. There is so much snow, so much. After a long week of the sun and the grass this is so alien, like everything’s been drenched in white paint, big buckets of watered down semen dumped on us all. They make too many Italian jokes in this show they’re watching, the same goddamn accent over and over and over. That’s all this is, the already flat and changeless plains that are the Midwest covered in more of the sameness, the blankness, the whiteout of the dark earth. One of the others just popped open an energy drink and the stink is burning my nose, squirming around like sugary acid.
Lost, completely lost. My English teacher and I have butted heads before, she’s helping me write an essay so that I can graduate. This guy that sits beside me in English loves her, the teacher I mean. He always leans over and talks to me about how beautiful she is, how shapely. “She looks just like a pear, man, a pear,” I don’t know what to say so I just nod and scratch at the writing on my desk. We’ve butted heads, this teacher and I, but now she’s ignoring me in class, isn’t helping me on this essay, finding reasons to fail my essays and tests. I love English, I love the idea of it, but it can be so subjective, so susceptible to one person’s notions of another. I guess that’s another reason to love it, but here it’s just frustrating. I don’t know what to do or say to her or anyone else about it really.
The flashing lights from the animations play on the back of the car, it’s hard to understand how someone can sit in front of a box watching time pass. I’ve noticed that. I’ve noticed that I spend my days waiting for the end of them, doing my best to zone out and ignore what’s happening so that I can go home and dick around for three hours, sleep, and then do it again. I guess we’re working for the weekend. There’s some cheesy song by some band I think. I can’t remember, but they had the right idea. I want a reason to keep going to the big jail they consider necessary, the big buildings all grey and tall. I want to burn them down, show them that life isn’t just sex and beer, but that won’t happen, and the sex and beer companies will have something to say about it.
The snow has finally stopped, the rain of whiteness is gone. I miss it already.
I’ll keep moving, keep working for the weekend, ignoring what’s happening, the goddamn animated shows they keep watching. That’s their sex I suppose, the bright lights, goddamn addiction. I need to keep this going, keep writing, give myself something to want to do at the end of the day.
