The Last Words Scrawled Among The Ruins

The End of All Maybe

(no subject)
Angry Dome

(no subject)
How many people still use this?
I want to know how safe this is.

(no subject)
I don't want this to be all there is.

to my journal:
Just like everything else in my past, I wish I could reach out to you and pull you back to me. I want to relive the best days and the worst days, all of them with you. I want to walk together again.
But time's past. Everything moves on and has moved on already. You're different now, and pulling you back to me would be robbing you of what you are.
I'm lonely without you, but I'll keep on living, and the better for having known you.

(no subject)
my lonely heart it falls apart for you to mend

As I approached he handed her a slip of paper and she polutely shook her head, turning to walk away from him. I held her bag out to her and she quickly slipped it over her shoulder and walked away without once looking directly at me. I felt the desire to walk after her and throw myself at her feet. No sooner had that thought arrived then I was accosted by my new friend who was reaching an arm around my shoulders in what I assumed to be a friendly, if somewhat menacing, gesture.
"You should go treat yourself to a smoke, kid. You look like you've been through hell."
I told him I would, but the smoking areas on campus notoriously disturbing places that I didn't want to be hanging around.
"Nah, just smoke in the car. I'll sit up front and watch. Trust me, it's liberating."
As is started up the engine, he lit the cigarette for me and passed it over.
"So where's this party at? Am I going to have time to get changed or anything?" I had worn fairly nice clothes, but I was very curious about what kind of timeline I was heading along.
"Yeah there's plenty of time. Party's not 'til tomorrow."
I stopped dead.
"You're fucking kidding me, right?"
"Nope. Going to be a good party, you'll see."
"So what the fuck are we going to do until then."
"Chill out. You know, we'll stay low and get ready. I think that girl I was talking to wants me."
"No she fucking doesn't. Have you seen yourself?"
"All my life. You saw her with me. We were working."
"What did you give her?" I was so outraged I forgot entirely about where I was driving. The cigarette fell from my hand and out the window, untasted.
"Be careful, kid. Those aren't cheap. And I gave her my number so we could hook up. If you've got a crush on her just say so and I'll blow her off. I'll find more at the party."
I drove in sullen silence.

The class wore thin on me. We'd already taken the "final" for the class, a career test that would tell us what to do with our lives. This week and the next three were to be spent waiting for the results. One hour in class for five days a week doing nothing. Failure to attend would get me a zero. My eye wouldn't stop twitching, but only in this room.
Sweater seemed content enough to glance sidelong at me and renew her smirk while i pretended to focus on anything.
I'm not sure exactly when it started, but one day her presence made me become very aware of my non-single status. Over time I found myself having to pull back from our conversations and laughter, because enjoying myself around her made me feel guilty. I'd pretend to check my phone, or write in my journal. I knew she was aware because any attempt I made to back away would trigger a sigh from her. A minute of awful silence would then pass by before she'd apparently forgive me and resume our conversation.
I was desperate to tell her that I was sorry for treating her like that. Especially now that I WAS single, but being so straightforward with a girl is a concept I hadn't yet gotten used to.
I pretended to write a poem in my journal for an hour.
As an hour of underlining the same six words repeatedly began to take its toll on me, I decided it wasn't worth it and turned to face her.
Which would have been great but she was gone now. Stuck to the side of my desk, I found a small note handwritten in the mst ridiculous loopy letters, complete with a heart dotting each i.
"Left because I'm bored. Unrelated: I'm considering naming you Mister Boringpants."
I took a deep breath and filed the letter away between the pages of my journal.
Getting up to leave I noticed that she'd left her bag behind, probably because the strap for it had been beneath my shoe. I picked it up and decided to go see if she was in the llibrary, where we'd usually meet up after class to throw pieces of paper at different goals.
I was surprised to find her right outside of the classroom in, talking to a suspicious looking guy with a huge stain on his shirt.
Suddenly I remembered that I had picked up a stranger at a convenience store dumpster and driven him some fifty miles to take a nap in a parking lot while I put in the minimum effort to pass a college class.
He appeared to be asking her for a cigarette.

For reasons I wouldn't understand until later, allowing this guy to hang out in my car seemed like the most natural course. He brushed all my cds off the back seats and laid down without bothering to look for a seatbelt. I didn't bother telling him to belt in, though, I felt something coming that was more important.
In the hour it took to drive to class I spoke to him about my life. I couldn't stop myself, everything was just being pulled out of me as if by some natural force. I told him about the breakup, about how beautiful she'd been and how I'd apparently failed her. I told him that nobody cared about me anymore, how none of my friends had even seemed to hear me when I told them about the breakup. I even told him about how my family had missed my birthday six days before, and done nothing about it since.
The whole time he just nodded politely and acted as though it was completely normal to get into a stranger's car and have him dump the inside of his mind all over you.
I was finishing telling him about my current class and the problems with it, when I arrived at the class in question. He volunteered to attend with me and "pick (me) up some choice tail" in order to "cure (my) bitch problems." I declined and offered to loan him a buck for some coffee. He took the dollar and then made himself comfortable on the seat.
The whole encounter seemed to evaporate three steps into the classroom and I found myself resting comfortably into the non-entity I usually am in a crowded room. I took my seat and began an ambitious attempt to become completely invisible.
From the corner of my eye I noticed a sweater break off from a small crowd at the front of the class and make a deliberate trip across the room to sit in the chair next to mine. A direct inspection confirmed my suspicion that the sweater was occupied by a quietly smirking blonde I'd been sitting next to most days. Or, rather, she'd been sitting next to me. I'd noticed her the first time we'd been forced into a group project. She had been wearing a christmas patterned sweater in the first week of october and I remember being surprised at her comfortable ease with sarcasm. We'd talked above the heads of the kids in the class, fresh from high school and overflowing with intense genuine hope that seemed to make the both of us choke.
It was a friendship forged in necessity that seemed to help us pass through the interminable days stuck in a "career" class required by the college.
Our relationship, though enduring 5 days a week for the better part of the semester seemed to have come under some strain recently, and I was finding myself more and more uncomfortable with our friendship.

(no subject)

"Observations on the Dark Nature of the Universe:
Number Four:
Love can and usually will exist between two people who are "in love." This exchange is built on sand, though, because no two people are capable of loving eachother the same amount in the same way. Over enough time, the friction caused by this inequality will eventually change the nature of all loving relationships into something painful and they will end."

It was two days after I'd hypothesized Number Four that I met a new person. I don't mean in the usual sense where you're moving on from another person, or that I'd merely just added a new aquaintance to my rolodex. I mean to say that all my life I'd been meeting people who were so similar and predictable that they'd all become one giant person with billions of faces.
Four days after being dumped by the girl I'd remember as the love of my life for a couple years, out the side of an unnamed convenience store in spitting distance of the pacific ocean, I met a brand new person.
I had been in the store trying to buy cigarettes for a few minutes after being inspired by a scraggly woman whose appearance suggested she'd come as far as I had to get to the store, only she'd started out in the water.
I was checking my cell phone for text messages from the owners of the many bridges I'd burned over the last month, and silently raging about forgetting my ID, when this guy stepped out (presumably from behind the dumpster) and offered me an unopened pack of cigarettes.
"Just so long as you let me watch you smoke one. I'm quitting, but it puts me at ease just to watch."
He'd managed to catch me off-guard enough that I'd agreed to his deal before even registering his appearance. He was a tall scraggly man with a nose and throat that both seemed to be pointing at me (at my throat and shoes). I could hardly see him through his unkempt blonde hair that seemed to sag over his face in a way so unattractive that it had to be intentional, but I guessed he must've been about six or seven years older than me. His shirt bore a giant yellow stain, but the confidence with which he stood suggested that he wouldn't be wearing the shirt if it DIDN'T have the stain, and his jeans were the standard issue shredded crust of denim you see on the kind of people who offer you cigarettes after stepping out from behind a dumpster.
I had the cigarette on my lips and was trying to look like I'd lit one before, and he began talking to me.
"Just smoke and don't talk, I'll do the conversation. I want to play a guessing game, so it's ok if you nod and shit, just leave the talking to me. I'm looking at you and wondering what kind of a person you are. In my way of thinking, there's three kinds of men. Men of the present, men of the past, and men of the future. Everyone thinks in a different time frame, so I can tell a lot about a person once I figure out what kind of a thinker they are. Get me?"
I nodded, not getting him.
"You're easy enough to figure out, I think. You're a man of the present. You've got a JC parking sticker on your car, so you're in college, but not for your destiny. Man like you, in JC and all, is in there because he's putting off destiny, not paying attention to the future. You've got a sedan, but your seats are being used for storage, so you've obviously had friends at one point but not anymore. Guessing by the condition of your eyes, you've missed a lot of sleep over this, so I'm saying you're probably not that into the past right now. You're in the present, right?"
I nodded, even though I felt he was completely wrong.
"And you're a pushover, too. You'd let me tell you all sorts of made-up bullshit about yourself all the while nodding like a hostage, right?"
I wasn't sure if it was right or wrong, but I nodded.
He laughed. "Ah I'm just fuckin with you, kid. You just looked live you've been having a rough time so I thought I'd help you out. I can't give you any advice or anything, but I think I can help you out." He stopped talking suddenly and I realized that the cigarette had passed me by without registering any response from my senses. Half of it was looking up at me from the wet asphalt and I stepped on it, suddenly angry.
I looked up at the guy and said "I have to go now thanks for the cigarette I'm late for class goodbye" in one breath that was loud even for a windy day.
"I got better." He sidled up to me. "Want to go to a party? I promise I'll find you a girl there."
This next bit is still kind of a mystery to me. He'd given me no reasons to like him at all, and I was in one of the worst moods I've ever been in. Maybe it was just the end result of a week in Hell, but I shrugged at him and said "I'd like that, but I've got class in an hour."
He jerked his head, tossing his hair back a bit, and I realized he wasn't actually as ugly as I'd thought. "Yeah sure, I'll just chill in your car."
And, for some reason, I let him in.
That was the beginning of everything.

I can see you


You are viewing maitriaya