As always, it's been a while folks. Here is a run down of what has happend since last time.
1. I've taken tests
2. I've showered
3. I've gone to Houston
That's about all. I really don't have much to say, but when your older brother asks why you haven't blogged in a while, you really start to think about it and how many fans you are letting down by not blogging. So I will comply and write one. Does this count? No? You want more? OK!
I'm re-re-re-re-re-restarting the life process for the twentith time this week. Lately I haven't been able to maintain conversations with anyone because my mind refuses to shut off. You've heard in one ear, out the other? I'm putting that phrase to shame, and it is completely unintentional. I've always had the problem of not being able to shut off my brain (hence one of the million reasons I have insomnia), but never before has my inner-dialog been this demanding. I've done a lot of things that SHOULD help, like putting my euphoric life on hold for a long bit (3 days strong!) and listening to Jazz, but nothing works. I've looked online, and unless I want to start taking litheum pills for a bi-polar disorder, there isn't much it seems that I can do. Anyone know how to kill brain cells?
My neighbors crazy friends came over and there were these two black dudes who were on some hard drugs. The started yelling at each other, loudly, outside, at 4:30 in the morning and one of them pulled a knife out. Me being the kind of person I am (and drunk), I decided I would try to break it up. I got between the two, and then was pulled away by two dudes, telling me that unless I wanted to be killed, I would stay the fuck out of it and maybe even call the cops on them. I owe those two a few beers, but they are under age so I can't cause that is illegal.
Originally my intenions for this blog was to be lazy and just post a bunch of cool shit I have writen over the coarse of my college career (stupid poems, awesome stories, personal essays that suck ass), but most of them are too long...
But my last story I wrote, a two parter, is more or less about Daves wedding (No one has posted anything about Daves wedding yet, and that kind of makes me a sad panda). (AND HEY! JEFE, WHAT THE HELL! Do your stupid dare already, jezux). I've only finished the 1st part, which is supposed to be the rising action to the "climax" of my summer, Daves wedding. I really like it and when I finish the 2nd half, I may attempt to get it published if the 2nd half is anywhere as good. I know I am the person who loves the smell of his own shit and all, but...ohwell, I love it and the 10 people who have read it so far have told 10 people about it. And 7 out of 10 people recommended it over George Saunders stuff. It uses 3 different kinds of fonts (times/perceptia/something else) to ease the usual problems distinguishing dialog between characters. This stupid blog thing won't let me use different fonts, so some other day I will have to post it, or save it online and give a link so you can read it the correct way it was meant to be read.
In the class I wrote this for, my teacher decided that she was going to confess to us all that she is a lesbian. Now, I knew she was, mostly because I have a lesbian radar, because I am attracted to them, and her boots were a giveaway. After confessing, she wanted us to have a group discussion about stereotypes for gays and lesbians. That was probably the most unfair thing that has happend to me in school since Mr. Froint (sp) told me to take that big thing out of my pants on class color day. I'm a 21 year old white middle class male. Did she want me to get my ass kicked? The day before this, we had to write a 1 page essay about all of the work we had done so far in the class, as we were turning in a our portfolio. I originally included a part where I defended myself, and basically wrote a paragraph about me thinking she was a lesbian. I just had to omit it, didn't I?
I'm sure that everyone would love to hear more about what is going on in my life and all of that stupid shit, but this is way more then what I wanted to write in the first place, even though I didn't really write about what I originally intended on writing. Like about how I can count on 1 hand how many non-english classes I've been to so far this year. As stated earlier, I need to get my act together again, and this time, it's fo realz.
Love, Rob