Marc
I should be sleeping right now, but I hear High Fidelity calling my name. These things fucking matter. I downloaded some old rap favorites today, mostly Tupac and Snoop Dogg and Dre and I spiced it up with that Ludacris song, "Roll Out". Fucking awesome. I even got some old NOFX that I've been meaning to get for a while now. They've got enough money now, so I figure its okay.
We got a $500 fine today at the apartment because of that party we had this weekend. Worth it? Maybe. Depends, I guess. Matt's going to be getting his new keyboard tomorrow, so I'm hoping I'll get a chance to scan the pictures. Already have the rest of the page laid out and ready to go. Can you say 'captions'? The fine sucks, to be sure, but whatev. It's the price that you pay for being popular. We've got a couple of fundraisers in the work, mainly centering around a bake sale, another kegger, and a rock show. But we only have ten business days to pay it, so I doubt any of those will get done before pay day comes. Once again, I sigh and say, quietly ... 'whatev'.
Picture me with my head down, sitting at the desk, trying to think of something interesting to say. I hate nights like this, because it just seems so futile. Everything feels so unimportant right now. The bulk of my schoolwork for the week passed on Monday afternoon, and now I'm floating until Thursday night, when the partying begins again. It should be a fun weekend, hopefully. Obviously, we will not be hosting any more parties, but I've heard of things happening. Some times, when I reflect on how I used to be straightedge, I think that looking forward to the weekend and the coming partying is a bad thing. It makes me feel dependent, but I don't sweat it at all. I guess it's just part of this life.
Something's got to change, though, cause these weekends are all becoming the same old same old things, over and over again. You wake up on Saturday, lay around til its time to go out, get drunk at stupid parties, bitch about how nothing special is going down, and then go home to pass out. I wish it were different. I wish that we were still the young ones at the parties, under 21, begging people to buy us beer when the kegs ran out. I wish that getting harrassed by the cops was scary, and that they could actually could do something to us. Now, we've got nothing. We're all approaching 23, two years beyond that magical birthday when everything changes. We don't go to bars because they are expensive. We go to parties, but we are the only ones there that seem to criticize everything. Parties, for the most part, suck. Only when you are three sheets to the wind do parties seem fun. Fuck em.
Whatev. I ramble on and on. Arg.
I should be sleeping right now, but I hear High Fidelity calling my name. These things fucking matter. I downloaded some old rap favorites today, mostly Tupac and Snoop Dogg and Dre and I spiced it up with that Ludacris song, "Roll Out". Fucking awesome. I even got some old NOFX that I've been meaning to get for a while now. They've got enough money now, so I figure its okay.
We got a $500 fine today at the apartment because of that party we had this weekend. Worth it? Maybe. Depends, I guess. Matt's going to be getting his new keyboard tomorrow, so I'm hoping I'll get a chance to scan the pictures. Already have the rest of the page laid out and ready to go. Can you say 'captions'? The fine sucks, to be sure, but whatev. It's the price that you pay for being popular. We've got a couple of fundraisers in the work, mainly centering around a bake sale, another kegger, and a rock show. But we only have ten business days to pay it, so I doubt any of those will get done before pay day comes. Once again, I sigh and say, quietly ... 'whatev'.
Picture me with my head down, sitting at the desk, trying to think of something interesting to say. I hate nights like this, because it just seems so futile. Everything feels so unimportant right now. The bulk of my schoolwork for the week passed on Monday afternoon, and now I'm floating until Thursday night, when the partying begins again. It should be a fun weekend, hopefully. Obviously, we will not be hosting any more parties, but I've heard of things happening. Some times, when I reflect on how I used to be straightedge, I think that looking forward to the weekend and the coming partying is a bad thing. It makes me feel dependent, but I don't sweat it at all. I guess it's just part of this life.
Something's got to change, though, cause these weekends are all becoming the same old same old things, over and over again. You wake up on Saturday, lay around til its time to go out, get drunk at stupid parties, bitch about how nothing special is going down, and then go home to pass out. I wish it were different. I wish that we were still the young ones at the parties, under 21, begging people to buy us beer when the kegs ran out. I wish that getting harrassed by the cops was scary, and that they could actually could do something to us. Now, we've got nothing. We're all approaching 23, two years beyond that magical birthday when everything changes. We don't go to bars because they are expensive. We go to parties, but we are the only ones there that seem to criticize everything. Parties, for the most part, suck. Only when you are three sheets to the wind do parties seem fun. Fuck em.
Whatev. I ramble on and on. Arg.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home