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| did you know i have new cell phone? i do. and the number is 815-954-0963. | | |
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for eighteen years i lived without a roomate until i left for college.
even more, i hated it when people were in my room. but in high school i
became fascinated by peoples rooms. i wanted to stare at their rooms
for hours and analyze their little pieces with them in there with me. i
used to stare at my parents bedroom and try to make sense of all of it.
my
freshman and sophomore year i lived with one other person, a different
person in each year. now my apartment is connected with two other rooms
to create the impression that i have eleven other roomates, and we
treat the three apartments like they are our house. there are twelve of
us, and two constant visitors makes fourteen. we eat meals together, we
go to sleep together, and we stare at the television together.
this
summer for the first time in four years i am going to have my own room,
and i am scared to death of having my own room. i want people to sleep
next to me and eat next to me and invade my personal space every chance
they get. i want people to never leave me alone. i want to fight
everyone and then figure it out with them.
i have wasted too much of my life in my room alone, and now i am grasping in every direction to make up for lost time.
and if people feel like i am pushing them away, i am. its because im still learning. im sorry. im just thinking, thats all.
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| there is a man that comes through the drive-thru where i work almost
every night i work, almost always about fifteen minutes before we
close. he is a well groomed man in a nice car, with neatly combed hair
and a suit coat. and i asked him one night, are on your way to work?
and he replied with a smile no, just got done putting the kids to bed.
and since then some nights i ask, just get done putting the kids to
bed? and he smiles. and i wonder where he goes after that.
some
nights i imagine he turns around and goes back home to his wife and
they kiss and she brushes her teeth and goes to bed early and he
watches some college basketball in his plain white t-shirt before he
goes to bed too.
or some nights i imagine he keeps on driving,
and listens to a cd his friend from work recommended, or maybe some
eric clapton or sports radio. and he drives around all night, for a
good two or three hours, just driving around neighborhoods before he
goes home. and his wife is sitting at home awake and being quiet to not
wake the kids and she is reading a book or trying to figure out the
internet before she goes to bed too.
and i think about how some
nights i just want to drive around for no reason late at night and
listen to music in my car and think about how empty the roads are, and
i wonder if i will grow up to be this man, or if a lot of us will grow
up to be this man
and i wonder how that goes, putting the kids
to bed. i wonder if he goes in their rooms and tells them a story he
made up or reads a small book. and then once that is done he leaves the
room and walks out the door and gets into his car and drives away | | |
| i am a happy boy, and a very lucky one at that. thanks to my family, my girlfriend, my friends, my job, and way too much good music. kelsey might move to china this summer. im so pumped for her. i dont know whats happening yet for me, but it will be good. secretly i want to live in my car. real bad.
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| how do you find the balance between being too proud and being a doormat?
or doing what you want and doing what you are told?
good heavens, who knows.
my sister used to punch me to make me tougher
my mother used to kiss me to make me softer
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