Preparation for Departure...
So here I am on the verge of graduation. At this late hour I can't help but reflect. That's what I do.
On Wednesday at 9:30 I will be an unofficial college graduate. The next three days will be a sado-masochistic paradise. Coffee, cigarettes and cynicism will abound.
So much for those vague delusions from when I showed up. Hooray for the vaguer, grander delusions I've picked up along the way. By this point in my life I doubt I'll be James Joyce. Fortunately my romantic self-indulgence will keep me in self-hatred. Maybe this is part of growing up. Making logic replace delusions.
I can't help but turn my attention back to Brian, that eternal symbol of how not to live. I wonder what he's done since then. There's no way to find out, of course. Even if there was I wouldn't pursue the lead. He died in the Husker Courtyards. I can't forget watching him go from semi-intellectual slacker to a gelatinous pile. Listening to those SOCOM gunshots until five in the morning while trying to study. My mother suggested a mental disorder, I don't know if I can share her empathy this time. I think he chose, with a completely clear conscience, to sacrifice himself to his ego.
This is the one person I actively choose not to be like.
Well, let this madness commence.
On Wednesday at 9:30 I will be an unofficial college graduate. The next three days will be a sado-masochistic paradise. Coffee, cigarettes and cynicism will abound.
So much for those vague delusions from when I showed up. Hooray for the vaguer, grander delusions I've picked up along the way. By this point in my life I doubt I'll be James Joyce. Fortunately my romantic self-indulgence will keep me in self-hatred. Maybe this is part of growing up. Making logic replace delusions.
I can't help but turn my attention back to Brian, that eternal symbol of how not to live. I wonder what he's done since then. There's no way to find out, of course. Even if there was I wouldn't pursue the lead. He died in the Husker Courtyards. I can't forget watching him go from semi-intellectual slacker to a gelatinous pile. Listening to those SOCOM gunshots until five in the morning while trying to study. My mother suggested a mental disorder, I don't know if I can share her empathy this time. I think he chose, with a completely clear conscience, to sacrifice himself to his ego.
This is the one person I actively choose not to be like.
Well, let this madness commence.
posted by Dan at
7:14 PM
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