When a person can’t find his/her keys because the set was under a pillow, that person should not venture out into thunderstorms. After two days of searching, I found my keys under my pillow, which was the last place I decided to look even if it is the first place I stash my items. I assume I’m drawn in by the prospect of leaving as soon as I wake, considering I fly by the seat of my pants.
School is almost over! Yay! Sorry, my inner juvenile emerged from the dark recesses of my mind and will be sedated once more. But seriously, I’m starting to feel that sort of satisfaction that comes along with knowing I’ve done a great job. If I was a soldier, the general would be coming to salute me as I reload my gun for one last waltz. I received a letter from Sigma Alpha Lambda Honor Society, which I believe left me retrospective. I’ve beaten myself to the edge and back for something I’m not sure is tangible; sure, I boast about world domination, but is that possible? It seems more and more likely if I keep up this breakneck pace I’ve come to learn, perfect, and enjoy. Also, loathe…I can’t forget that I loathe this path. While working on my schedule, I had to ask myself if I wanted to give up watching Raw on Mondays or salsa class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. That’s an awkward sell, because I’m still taking 8 classes, and I’m still trying to squeeze “me-time” in there. What is “me-time” for me, anyway? I spend more time trying to figure out what I will leave lying in my wake, and who will remember once it happens. Tekken 6 will capture my attention for a month, but after that…more coursework.
I prepare to leave Long Beach with a sense of hollow delusion. Despite what I did leave in my wake (and looking back, I probably did go full heel without realizing it), the fact that I woke up alone and grumpy might be how I choose to define my legacy. There are no pretenses about my collegiate goals; I was supposed to win Christine. It never happened. I saw her a couple of weeks ago, and she didn’t notice me. It could be time for me to move on…if that’s the case, she’s stuck at Long Beach for at least another year since she switched over to art. I could take some solace in knowing that I’ll be off to grad school for at least a year or two before she sniffs commencement. Yet…she’s the reason why I came to CSULB. I came here to end the massive single streak that has been the elephant in the room…that everyone did talk about. Unless my Satsu no Hadou manifests into a dark princess, I could be screwed. On a lighter note, I at least know what kind of girls I like now, which trips me out to a degree. Sure, my tendencies have been over the spectrum, but when I truly decide to pursue…it’s always the same type.
A customer wanted me to cash her check, but the system rejected it. I was polite and told her that the system freaked out, but she bought none of it. She cursed me out, said some really disrespectful things to me; among the obscenities, fat, failure, needs to get laid, power trip, picked on in high school, asshole, etc. Now there was a shitload of truth to pretty much everything she said…I think she stretched it with the fat crack, I don’t wobble when I walk. However, everything else was spot on…except for the fact that I’m not racist against white people. Hell, I identify with whites more than I do blacks. Anyhow, I put up with the abuse for fifteen minutes, then I whipped out my ASSUREDLY LARGE BLACK COCK and went yard on her. Her dad has just died of cancer, and I managed to exploit it. I can be a cruel prick sometimes (as she pointed out), yet I will not tolerate LIES…or truths. Not from a drug addict, anyway. It felt good to rip a customer a new one in front of other people; I like tapping into my dark side. It gives me a rush beyond compare…unless Alex Shelley is going to skull fuck someone in the ring. With all that said, I’m still single. After 21 years, I am unable to strike a heteronormative relationship off my list. There I go, condescending to my audience again by throwing big words out there. Sesquipedalean. I just looked up the definition…and what a coincidence, the shoe fits.
I have four months of actual work left at California State University, Long Beach, and a victory lap to sit at the craps table and try to right an epic wrong. I looked back at some pictures, and I realized the girl who would have been the best fit, who resembles every girl I’ve pursued since…she’s not coming back, and I won’t go to grad school to try to win her back…not at the moment, anyway. St. Peter will not be calling my name, as hell is my destination. I’m upbeat, however; although it’s almost over, just let me throw the dice…I know that I can win. Skibbebedebop. Much later.
Current Track – Counting Crows “Mrs. Potter’s Lullaby”