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[16 Jan 2008|05:17pm] |
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the whole premise of rating communities really bothers me.
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[14 Jan 2008|03:32pm] |
i wrote this about a year ago.
As we speak, I'm sitting at a bench in one of the local skating rinks in my city. We're here at a birthday party for my step-brother, and what's sort of strange is when you couple the music I'm listening to ( on my iPod of course; must conserve laptop battery-) and the weird flashing 80's style lights from the ceiling, I could almost be convinced that I was sitting at Skylite on a Saturday night back when I was twelve. That's if you take away the whole skating rink not being this big block of plastic off in the corner, and the abscence of kids dry-fucking in the back of the establishment where hardly any light got to. Just the mention of that old place takes me back to a time when I thought matching denim outfits were cool, and they were even cooler if the jean was dark denim stitched with neon yellow that stood out for everyone to look at and admire, or make fun of- depending on their taste.
And if one was to dig even farther into the dark recesses of my mangled mess of a mind, you'd find a really pissed off twelve year old boy sitting on a plastic covered mattress clad in white boxers and a tee shirt talking with the boy on the top bunk, who incidentally happened to be named "Joe", about when they lost their virginity to girls "back home" and all the while not picking up on the oh-so-obvious hints of bullshit in the air from the fact that we were lying to eachother. I'd thought of someone earlier, who we'll leave nameless. He was a the epitome of exemplary back in the resident home I used to live in, always making it to the top "level"-- we used a rank system that granted privileges or imposed consequences-- for good behavior. I remember him always being at Skylite with a crowd of girls surrounding him because he was known for having the best abs. I can remember him doing sit ups with his feet lodged under his bed frame to hold him in place each night before sleep.
He ran away about a year after I started living at the group home, and we never saw him again. I wonder if he made it back to his family like he planned, or if they ended up sticking him in another group home. He'd be out by now, as I'm pretty sure he's around 19.
I dunno if this was supposed to have a point or not, but I feel some sense of accomplishment for actually typing this out.
it's strange because i find myself forgetting more and more about a time of my life that was really significant. it's hard to imagine that it's been four years since i've come back home and assimilated the role of a "normal" teenager. it's even harder to imagine the amount of things i've forgotten in those four years about something that seemed so important at the time.
i'm going to worcester on wednesday because my mother has things to take care of with the d.o.r and since the courthouse is close to the main office of the organization that i lived at for two years is within walking distance, i figured i'd stop by and pick up a copy of all my paperwork they compiled during my time spent there. i have a feeling the few days after wednesday are going to be spent with me sitting on the floor, organizing papers and deciphering handwriting, my mind finally getting the proverbial kick in the ass it needs to jog my memory. sure, i'm excited, but i think i'm more nervous than anything. and to be honest, i can't pinpoint why.
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[13 Jan 2008|08:09pm] |
i really loathe long-term group projects for class because nobody ever holds up their end of the bargain and i always end up doing the bulk of the fucking work.
i really, really hate being taken advantage of. i don't deserve it.
</bitching>
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[13 Jan 2008|02:11am] |
though the weather's quite inclement and when there are snow storms i can't see my shoes, i'm still glad i'm here with you. there's funny animals with beards and all of the fishes are see-through. the skunks have noses like kazoos. i like it here, i like it here, i like it here.
FRIENDS WELCOME
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