August 21, 2008
So two months later, I have a part-time, steady job, and I’m staying at a house with two roommates. George, the drunk, is outgoing, a social Darwinist, and talks about using women for sex when he’s not actually getting hammered. My other roommate, Jim, is a down-to-earth waiter at a Mexican restaurant who likes to get high and fuck also.
The sorority job… every single girl is this stereotypical, high class, cheerleader / prom queen type, white, daughter of some well off Christian family. I’m sweeping and mopping floors, washing dishes, watering plants, and cleaning shit after these women. They’re filthy, dirty little girls… immature, sheepish, cult-like group of women who treat others in a snobbish, condescending manner, uncaring or indifferent to anybody else but themselves… self-centered, pleasure-seeking hoodlums who’ll never grow the fuck up. But they’re pretty nice, I guess.
I’m still digesting my musical influences, besides that, just listening to records at the store like Ray Charles and Stevie Wonder. I’m really getting into the Hendrix thing now… a bit late it seems but it probably won’t be long until I’ve discovered my own voice.
Nell probably thinks I’m dead… or maybe not, but she hasn’t been as impactful on my life as she has been in the past. My past friendships seem cut completely, at least temporarily. My blue wristband broke the other day, and it made me sad.
I’m a little happier working and looking out for myself, but when I even dip my toe into the past, the emotions rush through my body. Thankfully I have enough courage to pull my foot out of the water now.
August 24, 2008
I know better than to like a girl.
I harbored resentment toward those who had relatively luckier situations than I did. These people included not only sorority girls, but anyone who I believed went to college straight out of high school just because that’s what was expected of them or because they didn’t know what else to do. The deeper reason for this resentment was not that I disliked other people. In fact, I could discover a fascinating new world of life and love behind every person I got to know individually. The one I disliked was myself for not having the strength or knowledge to overcome my problems and live the way I wanted.
I couldn’t figure out how I would ever be in a situation to afford college myself. I could barely afford the rent. It would be selfish for me to spend that much on something I wasn’t completely sure about.
And it was a hefty price tag for a place I would spend my time figuring out what I actually wanted to do. A lot of colleges let you put off choosing a major until the end of your sophomore year, which means during the first two years of college you are taking very general classes that have nothing to do with what you want to do. It’s a very sketchy system that encourages wishy-washiness and half-hearted life decisions. Practically everyone goes to college these days somehow. If everyone’s going and getting a degree, doesn’t that make the degree much less valuable?
I didn’t have any sort of passion for any of the majors you could choose. A common adage goes, “pick something you’re good at.” I would have made a damn good engineer, a classical musician, a teacher, a mathematician, a therapist… partly because I was actually good at these things and had an interest, but also because I knew that if I put 100% of my effort into something, it would propel me to the upper tier of anything I did. The problem was I didn’t have a burning desire to do any of these.
All I could see was what was directly in front of me, which was Nell. My only goal was to either get her to like me somehow or get over her and achieve balance in my life. That was what my brain was telling me I should do, and I was trying to do it on less than minimum wage.
A blue wristband was given to me by my friend Leah in 8th grade. I loved it. I loved what it represented to me — that I had a friend. I didn’t take it off for a long time, showering as well as sleeping with it on. It got to be a bit bothersome, and eventually I would take it off occasionally. It remained in my drawer for a majority of high school. Before I left for Austin, I threw away all my old things: notebooks, signed yearbooks, keepsakes, gifts, clothes… anything that reminded me of my past, symbolically burning my bridges. One of the few things I saved was this blue wristband, which I wore often during my stay in Austin. The last time I talked to Leah wasn’t long after this. When the wristband broke, I tied it around the top of the neck of my guitar, where it reminded me of a simpler time when a friend was just a friend, and a smile was just a smile.