| THIS IS A READ-ONLY ARCHIVE FROM THE SORABJI.COM MESSAGE BOARDS (1995-2016). |
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| By Nate on Wednesday, April 29, 1998 - 06:38 am: |
Had my martini early today. Sat on the front lawn at about 3, drinking sun and gin and something (again) drawing prometheus and pandora to adam and eve (or vikaverka.) Funny that in this place I live my neighbors are all sophmores packed two to a room, not quite brave enough to venture yet from 'neath mother's wing. The sight of a twenty something alcoholic exercising his habit on his front lawn is a reaffirmation of how good and clean their lives are. Drew stares and flies alike. When I grew disgruntled with the student ghetto I took a walk downtown to meet a friend at a bar. Where I wouldn't feel so alienated. Sucked down a few (lot) more in good company and then took a walk (stumble) down to the creek walk. Found a good unoccupied bench and parked it. Age sat to our left, more of the clean young collegekin across the creek. My friend broke out a bowl of the greens and we enjoyed a brief moment of freedom. In that period of time where we sat quietly, enjoying the onset of the stone, I thought of the times before compared to the times now. Before meaning the sober times, the first 21 years of my life. I was the clean young collegekin (on the drugs/alcohol front, anyway,) until I was legal to do such (the alcohol, anyway.) I was the other side of the creek. Now I'm on this side of the creek. I've ingested much, changed much. I think of my old self as shallow and ignorant (who knows if this is actual or simply another drug skewed perception.) I've damaged my brain, possibly forever. I get afterimages off everything almost instantly (the photo negative kind that you might get by staring at something for a long time.) This is especially awful when I have to read something printed in black on bright white paper. It's like lightning behind the type. I often get tracers (I can't figure out if this is the same thing or not. I don't think so.) I often wake up feeling more trashed then when I went to bed. I have a cyclic pattern of depression. Yadda yadda yadda. I've learned to deal with it all. I've pruned down to alki and dope. But when I think about the side effects I "enjoy" and the ways I've changed and grown, I honestly feel that if I could go back and do it all again I would still "do it all." Sometimes I wonder if this "change and growth" (or at least my positive acceptance of it,) is merely a product of a subconscious need to justify the damage I've done, but still, over all, I'm happy with the choices I've made. So I'm mentally thanking my personal prometheus for providing this for me, and thanking pandora for only giving me the briefest glimpse into her box, when I realize I've been stareing at this (attractive) young clean collegekin girl across the creek. She's noticing my stare and smiling big and doing this two handed wave that reeks of "I was a high school cheerleader." I clap my hands together in front of me and give her a sharp nod and smile. My friend and I burst into uncontrollable for several minutes. The old couple who was sitting on our side of the creek just up the way stood and walked our way. As they passed the man said "Wouldn't it be great if there was gold in that stream?" my friend replies "That's why I brought my pan with me." This all occurs before I can figure out what's going on. It was a good day. A celebration for actually delegating all of my workload to my design team. I live. |
| By Pete on Wednesday, April 29, 1998 - 06:55 pm: |
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| By Nate on Wednesday, April 29, 1998 - 09:17 pm: |
The drugs I have done took a violent boy and turned him into a (nearly) peaceful man. Sorry for being an unoriginal bastard. |
| By CarrieAnn on Wednesday, April 29, 1998 - 09:20 pm: |
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| By Pete on Wednesday, April 29, 1998 - 10:18 pm: |
No, I just meant your writing style reminded me of A Clockwork Orange (the book, not the movie). That's all. Collegekins.... I've pruned down to alki and dope.... My friend and I burst into uncontrollable for several minutes.... It reminds me of the book. Which I remember we enjoyed as college freshmen. For weeks we were talking like that. The pseudo stilted English/Russian slang. Calling each other malchicks, or some crap like that.... Disturbing book. Movie too. |
| By Nate on Wednesday, April 29, 1998 - 10:35 pm: |
Now I'll have to read that book. I've seen the movie many times, but I have never gotten my hands on the book. amazon.com i luv u. |
| By Christopher on Wednesday, April 29, 1998 - 10:59 pm: |
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| By Pete on Thursday, April 30, 1998 - 01:34 pm: |
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| By Markus on Wednesday, May 6, 1998 - 08:03 pm: |
I'll take Succubi for $200, Alex. Sorry, I haven't been paying attention to the boards lately. I believe the actual line is something like "It was the afternoon of my eighty first birthday and I was in bed with my catamite when Ali announced that the archbishop was dropping by for a visit", a line which Burgess/the narrator slyly acknowledges as an attention grabbing opening line, which is his particular specialty/vice. |
| By Nate on Wednesday, May 6, 1998 - 08:45 pm: |
I used to like to read, and then I found some other crap and now I just don't read enough. And for some reason I've missed out on all the good stuff that would make me a proper trendy intellectual tragedy. Then I will work on my spelling. I promise. |