Conspiracy of One: Prelude to Parkside


The school sent my residency instructions today, confirming me to room at Parkside Commons. Well, there’s a degree of fear, because it’s starting over again, this time away from home. Shit. Mildly unnerving. Details to follow soon, but while we’re at it, somebody call the governor…because I have arrived!


Began day by hanging out with Cacie. Must say I need to hang out with her a bit more, because I enjoyed her company. It’s been amazing watching her grow up and mature, because hell, I’ve only grown more sinister. Funny shit that I’m sure will evolve into a rap or poem. It was refreshing that she drove a car that was symbolic of my first love: an early 90s Honda Accord. It was like I became younger for an hour or so.

Camped out at work with mom and Jordan today. Another funny incident ensued, due to Jordan proclaiming “black women are loud.” I refuse to disagree with that sanction, as the majority of black women I’ve met have been quite murderous to my ears. We cooperated on a few jokes, and connected on two especially tender riddles: heaven. After a few dirty comments, my mother asked us about our Prom expectations. Of course, mine were exceeded exponentially, and we delved into my brain for one more memory. Cue dream sequence…

Approximately 11:55 pm PDT, the disc jockey decided that “I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing” by Aerosmith would be the final song of the evening. My condition, I believe, was rather, blissfully high, though I don’t smoke. While slow dancing, Christine looks at me and asks “are you going to make a move?” Since I’m dazed, I can’t exactly offer anything intelligible, so I decline. I come back to my senses ten seconds later, and a light bulb appears; it told me that a gesture should be made. So I placed a kiss on her right shoulder. She blushed, and said it’s okay.

I kissed her right shoulder.


Another light bulb goes off afterwards. What the hell was I thinking?

Apparently, this was news to Jordan, as he ripped me a new one. My mother was befuddled by my subtle choice as well. I ruined my one chance with the first girl I’ve ever felt true emotion for by playing it safe. The cards were on the table, and I folded. I should’ve kissed her…and not a pansy kiss either.

I reflect on all of my other relationship aspirations, and…I cry. It’s not fair. I shouldn’t be kicking myself, begging God to grant me an opportunity to go back in the past, and rewrite the script. She won’t talk to me, but I can’t let this die. Everytime I figure myself thinking of someone else, Christine remains the only girl that brought a grin to my stubble.

But she won’t talk to me.

I’ve got one year left at Long Beach State if my tentative plans go as I need them. I came there for one reason, and now, it decides whether I find happiness in union, or my life goal and matriculate to Berkeley.

But she won’t talk to me.

I’m not sure how to make this work. I’ve got to start the wheels turning. Happiness could be obtained quite easily with the right artillery.

But she won’t talk to me.

Skibbedebebop. Much later.

Current Track – Hoobastank “Without a Fight”


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