"ya know...life just takes care of itself"
i just wrote something, i don't know what it is
i don't really write.
weird.
it's a nice temperature, but the sky's a little ominous. It'll pour like hell tonight i'm sure. Feel's like time has stopped, no one moves, no one's around except a few professors mumbling as they grade stacks of final projects over cups of dark roast coffee. Donkey is dead, which surprises me, even though it is summer. i walked in and this guy with dreads was singing along to the familiarly crappy music playing in the background. I thought he was talking to himself, so i wrote him off as a crazy homeless hippie. I also felt pretty fucking stupid when i realized he was talking to his three year old, who was sleeping on the couch next to him. he was a townie for sure, but not crazy and not homeless either. He was actually quite interesting. I was trying to read virginia woolf, but the music kept getting louder as if it was telling me to just give up already. It's not like i could understand a damn thing i was reading anyway. But i overheard their conversation, two very unlikely friends. He, a single parent with dreads currently in school, who likes to photograph decomposing turtles. She, a "scripps kid", long blonde hair, and the technology to match. I figure she's a townie at heart or something of the sort. God i hate myself for being so judgemental...and for eavesdropping like i am. He's full of wisdom and though he is nothing like myself, he says some pretty impressive things. He tells a story of how his shoulder was messed up as a kid and how later at a skate park he fell on it and it was magically better. "Life just takes care of itself," he says. She listens intently to everything he says, but i can't help but think that maybe she doesn't really care. Maybe she wants nothing more than to run away. She gives a hazy explanation of why she never called him back. "Your call said blocked," "I had nothing to write your number down," and "I don't think i could understand your number." He says he mumbles all the time and that's why she probably didn't call back, it's also the reason the teachers think his son has a speech impediment. In any case he takes her answer as a valid one and moves on. I get bored. Virgina woolf is hurting my head and my vanilla chai is nothing but grains now. I get up to leave and everyone watches, as they always do, sick of their grading and reading and conversing with old friends. But it's just a small interruption. I walk out with minimal clumsiness and they resume. Still not raining. I swear to God it's going to downpour. It's so beautiful outside and so quiet. It's like living in a ghost town, so completely empty. I can't help but feeling inspired. That is until two guys come up behind me, critiquing everything i'm wearing. They walk fast and talk with digustingly hickish accents. I can't help but get nervous. There's two of them and one of me and though i can't see them, i figure they could kick the shit out of me if they wanted to. I get to the corner and pull out my cell phone, praying that they walk the other way. Luckily for me, they do. But i continue to walk quickly down the street, never looking back, until i'm sure they're out of view. It's strange to see so many townies out and about. Not the adorable, fun-loving townies that blend right in with students, but the out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere townies. They're roaming the streets now, which i guess makes sense, considering it is their town. It's 7:20 and there's a line outside of the sketchiest night club in the city. I wince as i walk past, and hear the sounds of shitty music, knowing that some girl is going to do something she regrets tonight. Some girl, somewhere. By this time, i've resumed my thoughts about how beautiful this place is. How nice it is to hear nothing. No drunken students flailing from worn down balconies, no screeching car tires, no yelling, no sirens...just peace. It's nice. I walk into the apartment that has just recently become my residence and it's dark. The place has been empty all day and i've been alone. I don't really mind it. Shitty movies, tv dinners, and unnecessary showers fill up my days. the cat just lays around in the middle of my doorway. He's so strange sometimes. he's slept all day. I imagine i'd do the same if i would have stayed locked up in this place all day. So peaceful. So quiet. I sit and wait for her to return. Only one more day of this and she'll be home. Things will still be quiet and peaceful. but they'll be in color. Something i've missed the past three days. The sky keeps getting darker. God, it's going to pour tonight.
i don't really write.
weird.
it's a nice temperature, but the sky's a little ominous. It'll pour like hell tonight i'm sure. Feel's like time has stopped, no one moves, no one's around except a few professors mumbling as they grade stacks of final projects over cups of dark roast coffee. Donkey is dead, which surprises me, even though it is summer. i walked in and this guy with dreads was singing along to the familiarly crappy music playing in the background. I thought he was talking to himself, so i wrote him off as a crazy homeless hippie. I also felt pretty fucking stupid when i realized he was talking to his three year old, who was sleeping on the couch next to him. he was a townie for sure, but not crazy and not homeless either. He was actually quite interesting. I was trying to read virginia woolf, but the music kept getting louder as if it was telling me to just give up already. It's not like i could understand a damn thing i was reading anyway. But i overheard their conversation, two very unlikely friends. He, a single parent with dreads currently in school, who likes to photograph decomposing turtles. She, a "scripps kid", long blonde hair, and the technology to match. I figure she's a townie at heart or something of the sort. God i hate myself for being so judgemental...and for eavesdropping like i am. He's full of wisdom and though he is nothing like myself, he says some pretty impressive things. He tells a story of how his shoulder was messed up as a kid and how later at a skate park he fell on it and it was magically better. "Life just takes care of itself," he says. She listens intently to everything he says, but i can't help but think that maybe she doesn't really care. Maybe she wants nothing more than to run away. She gives a hazy explanation of why she never called him back. "Your call said blocked," "I had nothing to write your number down," and "I don't think i could understand your number." He says he mumbles all the time and that's why she probably didn't call back, it's also the reason the teachers think his son has a speech impediment. In any case he takes her answer as a valid one and moves on. I get bored. Virgina woolf is hurting my head and my vanilla chai is nothing but grains now. I get up to leave and everyone watches, as they always do, sick of their grading and reading and conversing with old friends. But it's just a small interruption. I walk out with minimal clumsiness and they resume. Still not raining. I swear to God it's going to downpour. It's so beautiful outside and so quiet. It's like living in a ghost town, so completely empty. I can't help but feeling inspired. That is until two guys come up behind me, critiquing everything i'm wearing. They walk fast and talk with digustingly hickish accents. I can't help but get nervous. There's two of them and one of me and though i can't see them, i figure they could kick the shit out of me if they wanted to. I get to the corner and pull out my cell phone, praying that they walk the other way. Luckily for me, they do. But i continue to walk quickly down the street, never looking back, until i'm sure they're out of view. It's strange to see so many townies out and about. Not the adorable, fun-loving townies that blend right in with students, but the out-in-the-middle-of-nowhere townies. They're roaming the streets now, which i guess makes sense, considering it is their town. It's 7:20 and there's a line outside of the sketchiest night club in the city. I wince as i walk past, and hear the sounds of shitty music, knowing that some girl is going to do something she regrets tonight. Some girl, somewhere. By this time, i've resumed my thoughts about how beautiful this place is. How nice it is to hear nothing. No drunken students flailing from worn down balconies, no screeching car tires, no yelling, no sirens...just peace. It's nice. I walk into the apartment that has just recently become my residence and it's dark. The place has been empty all day and i've been alone. I don't really mind it. Shitty movies, tv dinners, and unnecessary showers fill up my days. the cat just lays around in the middle of my doorway. He's so strange sometimes. he's slept all day. I imagine i'd do the same if i would have stayed locked up in this place all day. So peaceful. So quiet. I sit and wait for her to return. Only one more day of this and she'll be home. Things will still be quiet and peaceful. but they'll be in color. Something i've missed the past three days. The sky keeps getting darker. God, it's going to pour tonight.