One thing I recommend that you do in college is to, if possible, wait around after class. Usually, there will be a bunch of others doing the same thing with you. 9 times out of 10 everyone is there to ask about assignments, but on occasion, everyone there will just have nowhere else to go. That's when they break out into talking about whatever. It's always a very eclectic bunch that comes together, so topics like the death of the middle class or parenthood will get bitten into from angles they wouldn't normally. As you can (hopefully) imagine, it can get very cool. You are allowed to swear freely and teachers will tell you drunk stories like it isn't taboo because it won't be then. I miss those mornings.
Mind you, I go to a community college-ish school, and none of this folksy shit could be afforded by the throng of bigger schools. So, don't get your hopes too high up.
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I have done a lot in the full calendar month since I posted my last thing. I wish I would have written about it all as it was happening. You could have gotten like 5 posts if I kept the pace I had while I was in college, three of which would have been good. I'll try to keep at 'er from here on out. As in, I'll make a note to post more of these throughout the next week.
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I went to Calgary a couple of weeks ago. That was cool and weird. Big cities always bug me out. I feel more out of place in them than anywhere else in the world, which I enjoy for the most part. I mean, fuck the urbanites and all that jazz, but there's a lot to learn from being disorientated. I watched Saturday night descend in droves.
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At the end of the last term, when my profs were emailing me about what they perceived to be the quality of my writing, I felt unusually thrilled about it. It made me think that maybe I can actually write, you know? I kept wondering if this is what gender euphoria must feel like, that something I have always thought of myself as was finally confirmed. I was absolutely enamored with the thought I could seriously be a writer the weekend I got out of college for summer. That feeling has since faded a little in the month since, in which I have written almost fuck all, but the drive hasn't gone away.
That shit is all seriously embarrassing for me to admit for whatever reason, but if I am to admit it to anyone, I'd admit it to you.
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It probably shows more integrity to reject feeling understood, but, God, does it even feel good.
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"All the lust of a one-night stand and all the love of the night after your wedding." This is on a page in my notes entitled "4 Wattpad." I have no memory of writing it. "Kissing and then getting a boner" is also in there.
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Oh, and before I forget, I've been working.
Yeah, I know, I know. The NEET finally gets off his ass. There's not a whole lot to say about that right now. Retail does not feel worth depicting.
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Re: The Inevitability of Growing Up (And More Things I Dread)
Fuck school.
I did feel like this, even though we are nominally different people. I think everyone does. I think growing up feels like plateauing.
Also, I'm glad things aren't as volatile as they once were. I'm glad you feel better.
I would have done more analysis but you did all I could have in the post itself.
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I think there is a connection between cold, landlocked places and a fondness for alcohol. I seem to notice this throughout the continent. The golden womb of a drunk is perfectly reactionary to the cold and barren.
Speaking of that, I think I have been drinking too much. Your whole bit of me not being able to call you sober is rightfully embarrassing to me. I say 'rightfully' because I should be embarrassed. I definitely do not drink more than the average college student, but it still feels wrong to be drinking as much as I have. I routinely make fun of people who are overly fond of getting fucked up. Now I'm becoming that guy. It's important to remind yourself not to become the thing that you hated.
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Re: Are You Serious? I'm Sorry
Honestly, I don't think you should have been so irritated. You did put out an open invitation. But at the same time, I get why you were. I probably would have felt similarly. Hopefully, this doesn't sound too asshole-ish of me, but I really think that for all the weirdness of feeling and appearing out of place wherever you may be, there is intense hidden pleasure in it. It feels good to think you're different from others. That's how one defines themselves. Actually, ignore what I just said. I don't know how much of an Us v. Them thing this is. I think it just sucks to have a bunch of people you don't know or care for clogging up your night of bowling with your friends.
To finish my dumbass thought that I know you've already had yourself, I think you hate all these Normal American Kids because they're cramping your style in the most urgent sense of the phrase.
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Short one for tonight because I don't have a ton to say right now. But I will soon enough.
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I love you more than you know. Don't ever think you're too much for me.
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I find it so amazing how
I go where I'm led
I go where I'm led
I go where I'm led
I go where I'm led
