In the Mind of a Wise Idiot

4 03 2011

While in the New Shoots Creative Writing program in high school, I think we were supposed to write something performance-y or at least something that our mentor, whose name I have forgotten… no!  Ben!  Yes!  Ben was supposed to look over and give comments.  I went through a phase in high school where I thought that writing the most random things that came to mind equalled great poetry.  How very, very wrong I was.

This initally consisted of 3 pages, both sides, of the most random things I could think of.  Some were inspired by what was around me, mainly Math class.  Of these three pages, I then took passages from all three and condensed them into one prose/poem thing.  There’s no story, so it’s not really prose but it’s not structured like a poem (then again, free verse = anything).  I remember thinking this was the most brilliant thing I had written.  How Ben was able to read and make any sort of sense of this is beyond me.

In the Mind of a Wise Idiot

 

“Not at all”, he said to me as I wondered what it would be like to finally taste the sweetness of his lips.  Don’t tell me I’m dreaming again, I think to myself.  Well, how can I be dreaming if I can think?  Maybe it’s that even the first time I saw him that it changed everything for me.  The randomness of school makes it impossible for me to do anything.  At all.  At all, at all.  Somehow, I find myself wondering about him all…yes, all!  The times are changing; perhaps I will feel different tomorrow.  Perhaps, perhaps not.  Perhaps he will finally notice me…

 

Why am I so scared anyways?  It doesn’t make sense, well…we’re all scared of something, especially the truth; it blinds us, it tortures us, it shows us things we’re hiding from All!  this time.  And yet we can’t seem to accept it!  It is like we want another reason, but we are given the reason; we just refuse to believe it.  How stupid of us, all of us.  Why are we all! so stupid?  It doesn’t make sense.  Then again, nothing ever makes sense.  It probably never will.  We will all! continue to blind ourselves from the truth that we refuse to believe.  I don’t understand.  And I probably never will.

 

I wonder if I should do anything about it.  About what?  There’s nothing to do and nothing anyone can do.  Well, except for both of him.  Perhaps he’s scared.  Perhaps he doesn’t know if I am or not.  Perhaps he himself isn’t.  Perhaps this, perhaps that.  Only time will.  Tell me what you think.  Make sense of ALL!  Look, there he is again.  I think he was looking at me. But I didn’t look back.  Should I have?  Who cares anyways?  But it’s not impossible right?  I don’t know what to think anymore.  Should I keep chasing after him, or in that case, anyone if I don’t get high?  Hmm…maybe.  Maybe not.  Maybe I should stop.  Stop.  Stop.  Stop, yes…that sounds quite right.  Hmm…everything seems so wrong.  What is right?  What does it mean?  The brightness of his shirt is overwhelming.  Who is this?  Who are you?  Who is everyone?  Who is anyone?  How do we know who we are if nothing is right? Math is stupid and endearing ’till eternity.

Nothing can escape a black hole; its black, black, black heart swallows all.  This reminds me of when I thought about not breathing ever again before.  Nope, not fun at all.  Why don’t everyone just shut up?  Please, shut up!  Get out now, you stupid opossum!  And stay out!  Don’t forget to shut up!  It makes no SENSE!  Yes, that’s what we all need; some sense.  How can I make sense of sense if I can’t sense it?  Hmm…perhaps my binder holds answers.  I don’t know anything. “Funner” is not a word, you stupid hoe.  I really should just stop because I’m not making any sense…yes, that word again!  I’m confusing myself.  What should I do?  If today is gone, would we be on February 14th?  Quite strange really, but maybe…maybe not.

I wonder if people wonder.  I wonder if people wonder about the same things as I do.  Perhaps, perhaps not.  Perhaps they are normal.  Perhaps, no one is normal.  Perhaps we are all queer and I’m normal.  Perhaps my people are the normal ones.  Perhaps, perhaps not.  That seems to make so much more sense…there’s that word again.  No!  My god!  Your god sucks!!!  Math sucks.  Here sucks.  Do I suck?  I don’t know but probably.  Imagine all the people, living in hell.  That I can do.  Hmm…cards can be fun if you’re a hobo.  The pink fluffy bunnies will continue to hop until their legs fall off.  Alive, then dead.  I wonder about him and the future.  Perhaps it will all! change.  Perhaps, perhaps not.

Wow.  I am so obviously sane.





Random dream

9 10 2010

Something I found in my Crap folder just now.  Hmm.

Random dream

So I had another dream last night.  (Actually, I have dreams every night and I remember almost all of them, unlike the average person)

I should probably give you a backstory to all of this.  I (used to) know a guy named Peter who I knew way back in kindergarten.  We were sort of friends for the first few years of elementary school but then we weren’t in the same class anymore and we ended up drifting apart.  I left that elementary school for another private school for 2 years before entering high school.  He also happened to be going to my high school too, so it was kinda weird seeing him again.  We didn’t really talk, except in Spanish class when he would ask me about things and one time when he phoned my house and asked me for stuff.  (I was surprised how he had my number).  Anyway, I got out of high school last year and haven’t seen him since.

Here’s the dream sequence:  We are sitting in a classroom.  He turns around and asks if I want to know something cool.  I say yes.  He asks me if it’s weird that crosswalks start out wide and then gradually narrow near the middle and then widen again.  I somehow know exactly what he’s talking about and we laugh about that for a bit.  I ask if he wants to know something weird and he says yes.  So I tell him to follow me.

We somehow get to my old bedroom in my old house.  The camera angle is now third person as we sit down on the bed.  I tell him that I’ve known him since kindergarten and yet we never really knew each other.  I ask if he remembers the Memory Book (scrapbook) we made back in Grade 2.  I pull the oversized yellow book out of the drawer while explaining what I came to tell him about.  We had taken a class picture of everyone and below it, a caption of everyone’s names in the class.  A long time ago, I had scribbled out names of people I disliked, and of course, his name was one of them (this part is also in real life – the scribbled names part).  I tell him this and watch his reaction, but he just takes the book from me and looks at it.  I tell him I don’t know why I had crossed out his name and ask if he remembers if he did anything bad/mean to me, but he still doesn’t respond.  He continues to flip through my book, studying each page.  I look and him and gently kiss him.  I’m not sure how he’ll respond, of course.  The next thing he does surprises me, to say the least.  He just puts the book down, and walks away.  I don’t know how to feel; was it the kiss that made him leave me or was it the fact that I had attempted to erase him from my Memory Book?

The end, by the way.  If there is anyone who can translate a dream, then maybe you could help me out here, because I don’t know if it’s supposed to mean something.  I should probably say that he’s probably straight, but my gaydar is probably the worst in the world, so I could be wrong.  Also, I would have on/off crush status with him, but mostly off, I think.

Wow, that was long.





A month in review

1 09 2010

I made it a goal of mine at the beginning of August to post one new post every single day and I did it!  In fact, I’ve been posting something every day since July 29th, which is pretty cool.  Or at least I think it’s cool because I never used to post this frequently.  I’m going to do my best to post something every day but with school coming up that may not be possible.  I have a 3 hour break in between my classes so I could do it then.  Anyway.

I also realized I try to be funny in these posts but I’m not.  That saddens me.  I like to believe I’m somewhat witty but I usually do it when someone says something rather than typing up random funny stuff.  Also I’m tired and not sure why that’s the case since I go to bed at around 1am and I still don’t really feel tired.  Maybe it’s from reading almost the first hundred pages of The Amber Spyglass I borrowed today (it’s so good!).

My sent me a link to some of Kelly Clarkson’s leaked demos.  There are 30 songs in there and some of them are kinda, really bad.  Seriously, a song called “Cleopatra”?  I almost feel bad for not liking them… almost.  She’s still awesome in my eyes.  Just not some of her songs.

Okay, I’m gonna stop trying to fill a post and end it here.  The end.





Random memory: giant escalator

13 07 2010

A long time ago when I was young, I was watching tv, presumably with another one of my family members.  On the television was this strange program; it was in black and white and there was what appeared to be an escalator out of nowhere.  But it was absolutely enormous, and was able to carry maybe a hundred or so people.  The quality of the film itself wasn’t very good, as if taken a long time ago.  The escalator was heading up — to what, I don’t know.  Then suddenly, without warning, it stopped.  People began falling down the escalator, slowly and silently.  For some reason, this still haunts me to this day.