Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Imean swims upstream through water deep enough to drown him. The liquid fills him and he releases it with some recognition, but mostly it’s an involuntary act. He sends his patronage to the painters. Imean still thinks it is important to discuss how he swims, but why he swims doesn’t seem to matter. He feels enveloped inside of himself, yet his insides are empty. The emptiness is more important to him & how could anyone describe emptiness? Is emptiness something? Can one feel empty?
Imean is oblivious to his surroundings during the ritual. He shakes and dances with a vigor mostly observered for older males of his spieces. One can get right next to his body, right next to his face & Imean would look through them. Their visages become weak then mottled & finally transparent to his vision & are empty to his eyes. No one exists during this time.
Overtaken by his feelings, he continues to swim. He is blinded by the water. He can’t hear over the roar of the current. He can barely even feel the space in front of him. He has steadily taken apart his very being for this year’s voyage. He was determined to finish and he left behind all semblance of life including what it even meant to be himself. The last day he looked in the mirror & said, “You wish you could come, but you can’t. You’re worthless to me now, but don’t be sad little guy. I’ll be back. You’d just slow me down anyway.”
Saturday
I’m trying to learn how to skateboard so then maybe the other kids will like me, but my Mom makes me wear this awful bicycle helmet and falling down doesn’t really make one very popular. My helmet is one of the plastic ones that come to a point and I hate it as much as I hate the kids I’m trying to impress. Let’s call the tall blonde one, Mark. He has one of those names just like everything else, Chris, Ryan, Mike etc. Well Mark really has it out for me. Every time I say something, anything, he always cuts me off or laughs and the other kids join in. Every time I try to skate in the park and slip off of my board he laughs too or pushes me, even after I’ve already fallen. Downing an already downed boy, what’s the real point? To humiliate the defeated. He picks on me because I’m fat, because I’m ugly, because I’m stupid. Well he calls me stupid, but I’m not and fuck him, I’ll teach myself how to skate even with these brutes & lifeless sycophants pushing me to fail. One day I’ll catch him alone, one day I’ll smash his teeth out of his pretty face with the trucks of my board and no one will know it was me. I bet Laura will cry. Laura is this girl I like that always hangs out in his group. She doesn’t really talk much, she’s always sad over some boyfriend she has that lives in another state. They met over the Summer and keep in contact via the internet. That doesn’t seem like much of a relationship to me, but I don’t really know anything about relationships I have barely even had a girl speak to me outside of group study time, which is mandatory and the teachers choose everyones partners.
Sunday
I broke my helmet today. I was pissed off at Mark and Laura had snubbed me so I called her an “Ugly _____” and of course most of the kids in their group are from _____ so they chased me. Mark quickly caught up with me and pushed me as one of the sycophants rode off on my skateboard. I threw my helmet on the ground and a piece went flying off as I chased after the kid with my skateboard. Through my sweat and burning legs I could barely think about my escaping skateboard and thought more about the pitiful craftsmanship of the helmet. That could’ve been my head. Great buy Mom. Your son could’ve died out here relying on this helmet you force me to wear. I’m going to sleep.
P.S. I got my skateboard back and I threw the rest of that helmet away in the garbage on the way home.