The new year is here, and I’m about ready to check out. There are four more days left in summer school, and as expected, my grade is not in question. I’d really like a bit of surprise to spice things up, but I’m too prepared to be surprised. My guess is that I do the usual: blame society and lace up the boots anyway. After all, it’s not my fault I happen to be the only colored kid in class; someone has to read Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech. I have to say that my dream is a little different. Same lines and all…well, I’ll refrain. I’m going to hell for a lot of things; bastardizing the landmark speech of a generation will not be one of them.
Saw wrestling a few days ago in Reseda, and I was very much impressed. The feeling of being at an indie show is a unique feeling; spending little money for front row seats, yet getting insane value for the dollar. There are few places where I can interact with the performers on an intimate level, hurl insults, and potentially get injured. My hand is still ringing from Davey Richards kicking my hand. Yes, a freaking wrestler kicked my hand, and I gladly let him do it. Another uncommon scene was meeting Paul London live. Granted, since he had been released a month or so ago, I forgot what he looked like, so I almost took Jordan’s offer of following him to the loo. Next time, I’ll do it for sheer creep factor.
Plenty of people make resolutions for the new year, because people want to better themselves. When it comes to me, I’m still focused on success by any stretch of the imagination. Should I be more forgiving? Probably not; I don’t seek out any other ways than my own. Should I be more humble? Not necessarily, because I’ve yet to be humbled in manner that keep my mouth shut. However, it should be noted that the only humility that can bring upon that end is death, and I’m too expendable to die. Paradoxical, yes. But the truly suicidal people live long enough to find absolution since they do not fear the great unknown. I have approximately one semester to control my destiny. Therefore, I will do the only thing I know how: destroy this semester and anything that that decides it would be fun to intervene.
I look back on my failures from the previous year, and I’ll be damned if I see just one blemish…the same blemish that stared me down last year, the year before that, so on and so forth. The question is simple: how badly do I want it? Bad enough to kill, but not bad enough to go killing. For the most part, I lead a superior life. I burn money when I have the urge, I can drive anywhere on a moment’s limb…I’m self sufficient. Plus, my wit has been refined enough that I can outclass most with little need for rest. Most importantly, I have three belts, an internet connection and a bottle of cider. If I cannot be happy with that arsenal, then I need to shoot myself.
Skibbedebebop. Much later.
Current Track – Bruce Springsteen “The Wrestler”