Tuesday, May 03, 2005

finished school and started work. i'm fucking exhausted and my job is boring as all hell and i'm thinking that all the summer writing and reading i had planned to do is now going to go up in a fiery shit-fire because i'm too tired to do anything when i get home that doesn't involve snapping one off and promptly falling asleep as the tissue hits the floor.

watched a movie last night, Mean Creek, about a bunch of kids who intend to play a joke on this fat bully that's been bullying people by way of taking him to this river and forcing him (or so the plan goes...) into jumping in nude and running home. but, (spoilers ahead) the kid dies when the other guys push him in. all in all, great fun. the movie is supposed to be one of those "challenge your stereotype" films, stereotypes about obesity and bullying, especially, it's supposed to make you think, and it's supposed to make you cry (or some other similar sentimental response). but all the way through i kept thinking that if i were to be sitting there with friends of mine from home rather than friends of mine from school (and the two breeds are markedly different), i'd be cracking jokes and laughing my ass off instead of observing the quiet solemnity of which my school friends were authors. and i'm not saying that i think my school friends are wrong to feel that way, or that i like them less, or that they're less like me -in a lot of ways we're more alike- but they are different and watching this movie underscored that sentiment. gotta go.


At 9:58 PM, Blogger Andy Grabia said...

Stop being a bitch, Meeks, and just do it.

O ME! O life!... of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?


That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

Now let's do some poetry muthafucka!!!

At 5:38 PM, Blogger Tim Smith said...

I've had similar sentiments. To the original post that is. It's depressing but I suppose it's a fact of the post-secondary world - or any divergent worlds for that matter.


Post a Comment

<< Home