Well, I suppose it was time for a drunken post... (909 hits)
Category: GeneralLabels: pointless
Rating: 1.33 on 9 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by shadow (View user info) at 2006-03-20 22:11:01 EST
When I was a child, I had no sense of self. I simply was. There was no consideration of what the future might be, or indeed that there was a future at all. There was only the present. I had no idea of gender, or race, my naiivety might seem an endearing quality for a child but as I progressed I found my shortcomings to be rather embarassing. I strived for knowledge, at the cost of my own innocense.
I learned about race from the mother of my closest friend, Courtney. Her mother told me that I could not play the same games as her daughter because my eyes were too light. Whoever would have thought that my fractured blue eyes would be a burden? I learned about hate from a man named Richard, who abused my mother and myself, though I had better instructors later. I rarely speak of such things, the past offers no new knowledge for me, only pain and riddles to resolve.
I learned to hold my tongue, and watch others, to be inobtrusive such that my own mother hardly noticed my presence. I learned to watch, to observe so that I might learn from others without exposing my ignorance with idle and silly questions, but later, much later, I learned to speak and to ask the right questions. I learned how to smile just so, and hold my head both high and low depending on what the situation called for. I learned to temper my defiance with respect, and bow to my elders. I learned when and how to throw a punch, when to duck and when not to. I learned that the power of words was far greater than physical violence, and that taking control of a situation depended not on force, but on one's ability to control the key proprietors of resistance, and turn them to my side.
The United States government has recently recruited me to join a special sector of the military, one aimed at suffusing the Iraqis populous with pro-US propaganda, to turn the people in the favor of the US. Phsychological warfare. It would seem my talents have not gone unnoticed. I did not respond to the email, or the letter. I like to think my price is higher than what they have to offer, and I sympathize with any people held subbordinate to an invading army. No, I will not work for the military, I'll leave that to my brothers, brave and trusting souls that they are.
I trust nothing, not the people I surround myself with nor the precepts that make up modern existence. I suppose I have gained too much knowledge to take anything at face value, any of our senses can be perverted, manipulated. Any memory can be altered chemicaly or through persuasion. I have probably also developed a healthy sense of skepticism or paranoia. It doesn't matter, no one shall read this bit of drivel anyway. Maybe.
I must apologize now if you are reading this, I have been drinking... heavily. Usually thoughts like this are skrawled in my small black moleskin notebook, but my hands shake too terribly to write in the traditional sense, so I type instead. Here my errors can be erased with the ease of the "backspace" button, rather than copious amounts of white-out.
Memories flood my mind in this state. I am nearly out of cigarettes and I am in no condition to drive, so I must make due with what I have, ration them out by the hour so as not to run out before I eventually pass out. Breathe deeply, concentrate on the task at hand. I wanted to say something, to record some vestige of these thoughts so easily repressed during the light of day, when there are a thousand distractions to alleviate my condition. What condition? It's hard to describe.
I remember the first time I smelled the salt laden air of the ocean, oddly clean and refreshing. I walked along the sun-bleached rocks that make up the man-made jetty of Asiteague Island(sp). I walked barefoot on the surfaces of granite dusted with sand, the sound of waves crashing beside me. I feel the cold bite of steel on my throat as he attacked me. I hear a woman singing, her name is Lizette and she has dark hair in coils that drape her fine and slender neck, she sings an opera in Italian, a language I know not, but I am entraced and tears begin to fall. I feel the warmth of his body as we ride south together, nowhere to go and time on our side. I feel the surge of something caught between hate and sorrow, a betrayal so deep I feel myself cut. So much life in so few years.
There are foreign lands as well, the January breeze stings my face as I walk blithely through the throng at Shinjuku, the warm light of sun burns me as I walk the mountain path towards the majesty of Neuschwanstein. There is a stone house broken down to it's foundation, snakes slithering through where roots of local trees have broken holes. My mind travels to all the places I have been, temples, castles, hotels, bars-oh the bars! The restaurants with food I hadn't imagined existed. Like little Chihiro in the land of spirits I have wandered this world, taking in so much beauty, so much pain. I feel fit to burst with emotion.
Then I grow cold again, withdrawn. Here I sit alone in a dim apartment in Baltimore. Despite the countless faces and conversations, I am alone. They say character is who you are when the lights go out, so what does this say of me? Drunk and alone with no witness to either my great triumphs or my terrible pitfalls. My weaknesses... well, in my case introspection leads emmanently to disappointment. I learned to play four musical instruments, speak three languages, learned some of the finest and most esoteric forms of science (such as quantum physics) and loved, "not wisely but too well". I find no great or special achievement in what I have, only longing for what I have not yet accomplished, which is to say that there is an entire universe of knowledge that I have not yet attained.
I meander on, pointlessly. Forgive me, I know not of what I speak. More alcohol it is, then bed perhaps. Yes, I should sleep and let dreams take me. I have lost the message I thought to convey, these words are a failure. And yet I think, I feel, I know not what, something divine... or mundane, something powerful yet completely silent. What was I saying? What meaning is this? Profound pointlessness... I'll make sense of it in the morning, provided I have not forgotten by then.
Take care my sometime friends, I shall see thee upon the morrow.
User Reviews
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2006-03-21 09:21:06 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
ah, i arrive at work mildly hungover. I forget the message that was so important for me to say but as I reread this post I realize how cathartic it was just to write it down. Damn, I slept so well last night- better than I have in months. I'm a little shakey but I feel good.
Today is my court-day for eviction, if all goes well I'll get to keep my home. That'll be real nice.
Submitted by Hilarity_Ensues (user info) at 2006-03-21 08:02:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice. Strangely coherant for a drunken post, or maybe it's because I know where you're coming from... haven't decided. Good none the less.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-03-21 05:01:21 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Berty needs a hardcore hug.
At least Berty thinks he does. The reality is simply that Berty didn't get a full 8 hours either today or yesterday and as a consequence is somewhat listless.
A good nights sleep, some cocaine and a warm working environment will see all your problems dissolve.
Submitted by Chroniclysm (user info) at 2006-03-20 23:08:02 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by scourge (user info) at 2006-03-20 22:59:49 EST (#)
Ranking: 1
Personally I stick to drunken reviewing. Much more satisfying
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2006-03-20 22:45:25 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
self-righteous? after i said that i was full of disapointment and shortcomings?
Huh, well, ok. Have a super day. i'm in no mood to argue, i'll take what I can get.
Submitted by tammy (user info) at 2006-03-20 22:39:00 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
Maybe I shouldn't review this. I liked the way it started out but your tone became sort of arrogant or self-righteous or something. I don't know. It kind of grossed me out but it was worth reading.
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2006-03-20 22:23:43 EST (#)
Ranking: 0
thank you teeph, i think i mildly understood half of what you said, you have a wonderful night.
Well i suppose that's a bit presumptuous of me, is it night where you are?
Have a lovely.... whatever
Submitted by Teephphah (user info) at 2006-03-20 22:18:59 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
You should know that sometimes people skip to the bottom of a post to see if there is a picture.
In the case of this post, they see:
"Take care my sometime friends, I shall see thee upon the morrow."
I shall see thee upon the morrow?
Not if that owl-bear gets you first, Legolas. Take these +2 glasses of farseeing, they may aid theee on thy journey.
Dork.
Also, something about you mentioning the copius amounts of white-out in your hand-written journal kills the otherwise endearubg mood of sincerity here. Come on, you don't really use white-out for handwriting. It would take way too long.
All that being said, you like words and have been drinking heavily.