Eighteen when I die.

31. 05. 2006

"Do you realise we have two years to go before we'll be adults?"
"Yes."
"Do you realise what that means?"
"That you have something else inconsequential to panic about."
"Oh Ha Ha. This is not a time for jokes. We are wasting valuable minutes of our childhood, lounging around here trying to be smart."
"Is that what we're doing? I thought we were trying to figure out exactly what the matter is with my parents."
"That's work for professionals with degrees. We're a couple of sixteen year olds. We should be dancing, we should be singing, we should be .. frolicking in the sun."
"I don't know about me, but I've never known you to be much of a .. frolicker."
"Well, then I should be. I should frolic more. In the sun, rain and er.. other weathers."
"What exactly will that achieve? All this, uhm, frolicking?"
"It will signify that I am doing what people my age should be doing."
"Which is frolicking."
"Yes, exactly."
"I've never known any sixteen year olds to frolic."
"Well, then, then, um, then you don't know the right sort of people!"
"There's an epiphany if I ever heard one."
"Stop trying to sound like me and dampen my spirits. I am young, I am healthy, I should be.. DOING something."
"Like frolicking."
"Yes. Like that."
"Well, good luck with it."
"Thank you."
"You're still here."
"Well, give me a minute."
"How exactly do you plan to go about this frolicking?"
"I'm not too sure.. What do people do exactly, when they .. frolic?"
"I think it involves some sort of tribal dance around a fire."
"Shutup. Hmmm. Oxford defines it as a gay, carefree time."
"Do you have any particular worries at the moment?"
"No, not really. No."
"Are you gay?"
"...."
"You're staring at me, so I guess that rules it out. Well, you're half there, anyway."
"So I'm semi-frolicking."
"Yes, you could say that."
"That'll work."
"Good enough, then."
"This doesn't FEEL like frolicking."
"Maybe you're too old to be sixteen then."
"That's a horrible thing to say."
"The pressures of being an overgrown bat of a sixteen year old, eh."
"More so than being an narcissistic, mirror obsessed sixteen year old with a mixed accent."
"I am rubber and you're glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you."
"Shut up. Sigh. I wish we weren't so grown up. Then we could frolic in the sun."
"Is it just me or is 'frolicking' beginning to sound vaguely perverted to you?"
"Why don't you go find a hole to crawl into and die?"
"Why don't YOU find Shaquille O Neal and tell him you have his clothes?"
"Pain!"
"I know you are but what am I?"
"Shut up. You know I have a horrible feeling we're going to be exactly the same next year."
"Unable to frolick and generally bored to tears?"
"Yes. Something like that."
"It's okay. When you're eighteen, we'll have a big party and hang up banners that scream 'FROLICKER'"
"Yeah but without party hats."
"Yeah. We'll be all grown up then."
"Sigh. It's still a long way off, right?"
"Right. Don't worry. Plenty of frolicking time."
"Yes. Plenty of frolicking time."

Much Ado About Nothing.

Sure, you hit an ace.

But what's the point on a football field?

Nonsense.

Irony (n) : As the official date of my adulthood fast approaches, I slip further and further into regression.

Alarms are ringing
And maidens are singing
This is the end
Of a new beginning.

The dead have died
And the saints have lied
All this compassion
Is fraught with spite.

The moon is weary
The night is dreary
What amuses us,
Is quite ordinary.

Your love is stale
My hate is pale
What new sense
Will now prevail?

Clean your floors
And bolt your doors
Now say the prayers
That will slay your foes.

>.<

Riders on the Storm

I am the silence in the thunder
I am the light in the sky
I am the despair in the wonder
I am the hope in my eye.

I am meager in the plenty
I am the marvel in the plain
I am the peril in the safety
I am the heat in the rain.

I am the crumble in the cookie
I am the bite in the bitch
I am the salt in the sea
I am the wart of the witch.

I am the green in the tree
I am the forged in the true
I am the m in the me
And you know that I am you.

Ah, fiction.

He says:
The thing that struck me first about her was that her plate contained the oddest combination of food I’d ever seen.
And I’ve been to a lot of places, seen people eating cockroaches, even snakes.
But I couldn’t for the life of me understand why she had onions, pickle and Chinese on her plate at the same time.

I was to learn later that it was just the tip of the iceberg.
That the oddities would keep hurtling at me, barely giving me time to breathe.
And I would accept them, donning the air of a martyr but secretly wishing for more.

More of the nonsense.
More of the idiosyncrasy.
More.

There were other things that puzzled me.
But I didn’t have time to ponder over them.

Being around her was like being stuck in a warp of a kind.

You saw everything that you always saw.
But you never recognized them.



She says:
I could never understand why he was so happy.
His life sucked.
Most people’s lives suck.
Then why, pray tell, was his face always contorted into a stupid smirk?

I assumed it to be one of things I’d never understand and tried to let it go.

But then I couldn’t, because letting it go, would be like letting go of a limb.

Curiosity killed the cat, but I was willing to find out what happened to non-feline inquisition.

Then, for some reason, I became his friend.

I liked the fact that he was so organized in his head - not messy like everyone else I knew.
But I still didn’t get why he was so happy.
After a point I stopped caring. But I never stopped trying to find out.

Often I wondered if maybe I shouldn’t just do us both a favour and leave him alone.

But his presence was like caffeine.
I say that, because when he wasn’t around I suffered from definite withdrawal symptoms.

Most people would say there was more to it than what met the eye.

But then, most people spent their lives with blinders.

So there you go.