Sunday, May 16, 2004

Alone Down There

Today (more like yesterday now, but whatever) was the best day I've had in a while. Despite being yelled at my dad in the earlier part of it, I went to this church picnic at Seratoma (or however it's spelled) Park with Ryan. It was turkey there. . .I didn't really care for the food, but it was nice to get out and to be with Ryan, because Ryan's a good guy.

There's an amusement park open over a ways away from the park. Ryan and I walked on over there, went in and checked it out in the boredom of waiting for his parents to finish eating and conversing.

As we went past the "super slide" and came to one of those rock climbing walls--with the grooves in it that you can climb in on--there's this little girl standing there, wearing a black shirt. She's got blonde hair, and it says on her shirt, "Ask me if i care," with the "i" like that. I looked at her and wondered if either a) she had chosen the shirt herself or b) her parents had gotten it for her. Either way, that little girl's ahead of things. Far ahead. She's already apathetical and she's 4 years old or so. That's the way I'm going to raise my kids if I have any--I'm going to make them wear cool shirts like that, proclaiming to the world our apathy and our cynicism and our unhope. It'll be the best.

When I came home I was yelled at a bit more by my dad, and it was no big deal. But what's annoying is that for whatever reason my brother's sleeping downstairs on the blow-up bed, and my room's right beside it down there, so is my dad's. So I'm sitting there playing Heroes of Might and Magic IV and the volume's really low. My brother opens my door and tells me I need to turn it down. "It's not even loud," I say, but turn it down more anyway. He leaves, and even though I've turned it down, he goes in my dad's room and says, "Dad, he won't turn it down!" and I hear from outside him saying, "Turn it down, Mitchell!" and so I turn it down more again, and my dad comes in anyway and says, "Mute it. It's 1 AM and you should be sleeping," and so I do that, and I tell my dad, "He's just doing this so I'll get in trouble, you know. And you're falling for it."

My brother can be like that sometimes. He has my dad like a puppet, knows how to move the wires.

Apparently it's also going to be a "look for a job day" tomorrow. I'm not going to Ryan's. As my dad said, "Your job tomorrow is to look for a job." Honestly, I don't know where I'm going to work. I won't be working at fast food if I can help it. . .but that seems like the only place that'll hire me. I just hate the way the world works. I can write amazing things sometimes, I am very adept at writing. . .but at this point it's useless. It's always climbing up the walls.

Lately, I don't even feel like writing. I sense that it's going away from me. Maybe that's the truth.

I have no clue where I'm going to go look for a job. All I can hope is I get a job somewhere and it's not too bad. That is all. And hope is a stupid thing, and thus I do not believe in it. I do not have confidence in myself, either.

I don't want to go to sleep. Tomorrow's another day closer to another day of school (hell). And close to school ending and me without a job, and just my senior year left.

For all you people graduating, good luck. Because I think you're SOL, really. It is too bad the world's the way it is, and I feel your pain. . .and next year this time, I'll be feeling it even more. I'll be feeling it as realistic as I can. As is possible.
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