Monday, December 12, 2005

an economic downturn!

what happened to the college parties we see in college movies? have we been cheated? was the bet our youthful teleology? $15,000 per year, roughly? a picturesque rec room with empty cigarette cartons, popper bottles, poker chips, burnt pot and tobacco, pylons from the street, newspapers and holes in walls arranged so perfectly it took us ten minutes to believe it had really occured as a result of a chaotic night and maybe that was how the universe was created? lake pontchartrain both suspended above the intersection of avenue and roselawn and not suspended about the intersection of avenue and roselawn? decatur?

where are you now, yonge and eglinton? are you the dream of daniel and sarah? we will pass time and soon there won't be anyone beautiful enough to break our hearts left who will still identify with us. it seems tragic now, will it seem tragic when it actually occurs? please, maturation, anything but viewing it as a quiet blessing. i can accept dinner parties, folding napkins and being cut off by friends who need to focus on their careers, and i even look forward to nice restaurants and what my neighbours think of me and watching what i eat. as long as i'm still in a society and i still have my mental wherewithal.

how have i gotten so effective as passing time? i have been listening to this stereolab song for two years now. i want to come back to when i had actual stories to write, not just paragraphs to fill in with words and punctuation. or maybe it was the ability to fill paragraphs with words and punctuation as if there were a story and not just ruthlessly introverted spleen-venting. what of myself can i pass off as products of my age? i'd like to think nothing, but the thought will clearly deserve more attention. there's other nagging ideas. i haven't had sex in three months. i die, mercutio.

how is it that some people are doing so little with their lives yet they're always busy, and i'm doing so many things all the time and yet all i have is free time?

before i masturbate i feel heartbroken. afterwards i just feel lonely.

when you say you've done something "a number" of times people assume it's going to be a decent-sized number. but it doesn't have to be. "hey myles, i need directions - ever been to georgian bay?" "a number of times" "cool, how do you get there?" "sorry man, that number is zero."


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