Courtroom

*This is my darkest one to date. It's not as poetic, philisophical, or good as the others, but deadlines are deadlines. And I only missed this one by a few minutes. Email me at legolasnumber@hotmail.com or IM me at HHHthegame1999, comments are appreciated*The best place to entertain your sense of morbid curiosity is a mortuary. However, since most of us don't have access to one due to OSHA requirements for special training, there is only one place people can go to in order to have a good, hardy laugh at others misfortune, and that place is the courtroom.I would recommend to anybody with a day to kill to just go down there and hang out, it’s worth doing, at least once, and they can't kick you out, unless you do something disruptive. It's great.Whenever you go into this place, this sanctuary of justice, if you will, you will notice to distinct feelings amongst the inhabitants of the courtroomthe first is sorrow. When I was sitting in the (and I use this term loosely) audience earlier this week, I could see it on the face of everyman, woman, and yes even the children.The people being brought up on charges sit there, leaning forward, legs spread partly, looking down at the floor, hands folded in front of them. There’s a look on their faces, a look of contempt and sorrow. Black white, red, yellow, green, I don't give a fuck what race you are, you have this look.It's a look that says that I'm angry at myself for doing this shit, I'm angry at the victim for actually causing me to be here today, and I'm angry at the system for doing this to me.They are so blinded by anger, they can't see the obvious, its there own fault.They also have a look of sorrow on their faces. They are sad. They are sad that they will have there lives marred by this. They are sad that they will be paying for this for a long time. They are sad that this will fuck up their family. They are just sad.And you can see this EVERY time.The other emotion in this courtroom is Apathy.Apathy on behalf of those doling out the justice. For many of the people in the courtroom, this is a life altering event. This will change their life for ever, but for some people, judges, lawyers, stenographers, this is what to do before going to lunch.I looked up at the judge while she was sentencing a man. He was a black man. Black as night, and while he stood before her, eyes cast pleadingly upwards towards her (as they all do) she read off the rhetoric, as she had done a million times before. She could do it with her eyes closed. She read it straight through with out showing the slightest trace of emotion, and I can't blame her.A job like that, apathy is an essential tool of survival.What really heartbreaking though, is the children.A man, about 25, walked into the court with his four year old in hand. A cute little wisp of a child. He brought her a long, no doubt, in an anemic and ultimately, vain, attempt to inspire sympathy in the judge.As her daddy, who looked like an adult sized wigger, was brought up on charges for assault, she looked around with her big blue eyes, confused out of her mind, and scared.How was she supposed to know daddy had a bad temper? Did she already know daddy had a bad temper?Had she been hit? Had mommy been hit? Was there even a mommy around?These questions came to me as I choked back tears.As she walked past me after daddy's 3 minute "trial" (to which he plead guilty) I tried to flash her a smile, but I was so sad I couldn't do anything but look with pity.Then, if you're dark enough, and can sit through the pain of watching jobless men receive fines and children cling to violent daddy’s, there's the fun part.Drunk driving, drunk driving, possession of alcohol, 3rd count of possession of alcohol. It's insane. About 2/3 of the people in the court room were in there for alcohol related charges. It's funny as hell and perhaps yet another marvelous indicator of just how sad and fucked up this little shit-hole of a city is.If you stay there long enough, there are some very weird things that people will do to each other just to get even.One man's girlfriend broke up with him, so one night, REALLY drunk; he went to her house and knocked on the door.For thirty minutes.She was so scared she called the police.That’s how he ended up here, that’s how I learned about what happened, in great detail, and it's oh so strange how all these things in life fall into place so that he would be mentioned in this blog.To quote a great song"Isn't it ironic, don't ya think?"What's really funny, is the prissy sorority girl though. They make me laugh. One was brought in for a count of alcohol possession AND fighting. From the way she was dressed and the jewelry she wore, it makes you wonder what exactly is wrong with her life that she would do something like that, but this questioning moment is usually killed by the laughter of little miss priss being trapped in a room with the scum of society.It's an interesting place, to say the least, a series of contradictions that mesh together into the most appropriate theme possible in a place like this. The theme is getting in get out, as soon as you can.Judges and lawyers want it done, so they can go home and forget.Clients want it done because they can assess the damage, and go out and get fucked up to try and forget.To opposites working for the same end, what a country, what a day, what a building.So sad, so funny, so quick, so slow.When you think about, it’s so perfect; the courtroom is the best example of what life is all about.We need all this shit, to experience life.We need the fastness of the trial dates, we need the slowness of the waiting for them, we need the sorrow to experience growth, and we need the happiness to give us a reason to cling to life.The courtroom is a microcosm for existence.*there you go John and Jason, are you satisfied?*

The Infamous Spiral

It happens every semester, around this time of year. Every student feels it, weather they want to or not, it doesn't have an official name, but if you were to ask me, I could venture a suggestion for it-"The Spiral"Everything comes together around now, and it feels like it is designed merely to fuck you. It feels like your grades are bad, it feels like everybody hates you, your tired, and your hungry, you bored, you want out.And I am no exception.This is going to be the worst semester ever. I feel like I'm fucking up every step I take. I don't know what’s going to end first, this semester or my life. My smoking has gone up. I'm getting dangerously near the one pack a day limit. I would like to cut back, or even quit, but that ain't gonna happen. I'm way too stressed.It feels like my life is spiraling out of control. Like every step I take is wrong. Like I'm fucking up-or I'm going to fuck up, and I won't be able to fix it. I hate it here.I feel like I should be dead. Like my body has outlived my soul. Like I as a human being have outlived my purposefulness, and god won't even give me the fucking courtesy of death.Let me break it down for those of you who care (and I know the list is short)Spanish 102- This is the only class I know I am doing good in. This class doesn't bother me at all. I like the teacher, I understand the material, and I dig the concepts.English 252- This class is a little hard to gauge. I'm not 100% sure if I'm doing good or bad in the class, the teacher tells me not to worry. If I do X Y and Z I'm gonna be okay, and I'm inclined to believe him. He’s a funny mother fucker. My only problem with this class is that the concepts are a little to intangible for my tastes.News 180- Since the concept of a journalism college is stupid, this class is stupid. It’s my shittiest grade. I hate the teacher. He is an asshole when it comes to grading. He gives us very vague outlines of what he wants, when we do what we think he wants, he fucks us, when we go to him for clarification, and he just sends us the same shit back. I hate the man. Fortunately, I love the journalism, so I'm conflicted.Stat 218- This is what is killing me. This class, and this class alone, is making my life an unending spiral (there it is again) of frustration and hatred. If not for this, I would be a much happier human being. I hate statistics, its boring and confusing, the teacher sucks, he barely speaks English, and doesn't explain it very well, and its just all around a terrible experience, and I don't know if I can get out of this class. I never hated a race in my life. I like to think of myself as a fairly tolerant human, but this man is making me hate the Chinese a little more every class.So there you have it. The reasons I am so angry, tired and unhealthy as of late.And I can imagine that anybody in college reading this shit agrees with me a little, if not completely. This happens every semester; it is the main down side of college.What really bothers me is the way it distorts my perceptions of things. It makes me run across the street without checking, because I hope something will hit me, it makes me easily provoked into anger, it makes me think about death way more than I should. My first thought when the morning grogginess wears off-Oh great, another day to fuck up.My last thought when I coax myself into an uneasy sleep (because some butt munch has his subs on at 2 am)-Please god, let me die tonight.It pounds and grinds at me on every level of perception.It takes what would be a fun night of movie watching and makes it into a night of "how can I be happy? I'm doing shitty in school."And its almost universally recognized act that the main reason people kill themselves (in my age group) is school. If I do badly this semester, I honestly don't know if I have the support and will power to go on anymore. Don't think I'm just gonna lie down though-I'm gonna fight it. I'm gonna go to class, I'm gonna go to tutors. I'm gonna do everything I can to do as good as I can, its just that sometimes you can try your best, and things still turn out badly. Just ask the men who served in Vietnam. What I'm getting at is that I need support. If any of you people reading this give two tugs of a dead dog's cock about me and have any kind of spiritual side what so ever, pray for me. I hate feeling the way I do and I want to get over it. I would really just feel better if I had something besides smoking to get me through the day. If I have to drink to get through the day, it’s getting to the point where I'll try that. Maybe I just need a little time off, or maybe I really do need to die. Whatever it is, I'm sure I'll get over it. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I feel overwhelmed right now. Nothing can last forever though, and I know that this too shall pass, but it’s just tough. But then again, life is tough, I think that the best thing for me to do right now is to watch "The Lost Boys." That always cheers me up.I'm confused Scared and Angry but you know what, there is a chance, however slight, and that I'm gonna be okay.(Do me a favor, please send all comments to:legolasnumber@hotmail.com)