| |
First days always sucked, but it was the time when the semester was drawing to a close that sent the mind into a haze of panic and the body jittering nervously. Exams were left and right, studying took up whatever time you had leftover from school and work, and eating and sleeping took the backburner. Joys of joys, it seemed, as everyone takes on more hours to afford Christmas, and sleeps less to avoid failing. And unlike the average person, the starving college student usually loses weight over the Holiday's rather than gains.
Sitting in the computer lab, I thought about this, staring blankly at the screen and deciding, "What am I going to do?!?!?!" my mind in panic while face was in a blank haze. I knew I was going to have to get a second job, but when? Already I worked every free minute of the weekday, and was up literally till three doing my homework and studying, and waking up at six to do it all over again. It was obvious my weekends were to be sacrificed to this sudden evil that was Christmas, once so bright and cheery now warping into a dark thing screaming "FEED ME BANK ACCOUNT!!!!"
While this monster towers over my head, this Satan infested Santa glowing red eyes, I am momentarily distracted by the realization that Thanksgiving is mere days away, and I still haven't informed my family whether I'm going with them for it, or if I decided to do community service. The idea of spending another holiday with the family is almost mind blowing, and not in the good way, but the kind where you wish you could take a gun and literally blow your mind. But I know that's impossible. Ammunition costs too much, and the classes to get your gun permit really sucks. Besides, where would you get the money from?
Sighing at these thoughts, saddened by the lessening of options for death if I ever decided to rid myself of this futile struggle of life, I forced myself to look back at the scroll of the gothic chatroom I was in. It was some place on Yahoo where a whole bunch of College kids gathered who liked to listen to Manson and Rammstein, talking about different ways they could impale Brittney on a stick and fling her somewhere to…well…it seemed they were saying to Canada at this point. Unless she and Madonna made out again, according to one of them. Shaking my head, I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound of Manson’s “Irresponsible Hate Theme” playing through someone’s mic to be filtered into the room, dedicated to me. It was interrupted every once in a while by someone saying something, but we’d yell at them in the chat to shut up, and go back to listening to the music.
I knew I should be doing my homework, but I needed a moment to relax after cramming a ten page essay into the space of an hour, while trying to understand Socrates analogy of the cave. All the while wishing I could curl up somewhere nice and cool inside of a cave and say, I don’t know, DIE before I have to cram for the exam tomorrow? Not cool. Instead, I’m letting my brains rot in front of a computer, which is much more fun. It seemed that suddenly I liked this idea of Hedonism…that I just want to pretend I have a mental disorder—wait, I do—and live off of government money for the rest of my life and let my mind go away. But hey…I’m a teenager, what mind do I have?
In the chat, they were moving on to some discussion about how they could all blow up Disney Land, so long as there was a guy in a turban there to take the blame. Or they could pin it on Al Qaida. I couldn’t help but participate in the conversation, knowing this was right up my alley as I possessed one of the rare “Anarchist Cookbooks”. Not that we were really going to do this, mind you. It’s just fun to imagine every now and then gathering all those straight A preppy cheerleader people who think they are so much better than you because you dress in black and MUST BE a Satanist, and sending them there and then blowing it up. I guess I hold a lot of grudges in my sad little black soul.
Idly, I began to wonder what aliens would think if they were watching us. Like that woman who spent years with the apes, studying them, or like those wildlife people that do shows on the Discovery Channel about tigers and mating antelope or something. What would they see in us?
“And in today’s episode of ‘The Dying Planet’, we take a look at the savages odd mating habits.”
I wondered what they would see us as. If they would ever pay tribute to our accomplishments, which we held so proudly, or would they laugh at how backwards we are, fighting against each other like two ant mounds fighting over a piece of bread. Or would they tell in wonder about Aristotle, Kant, Descartes, Maya Angelou, Walt Whitman, or any other great people through-out our time? Would they speak of the intelligence that our species posse—
A loud squeal interrupts my thoughts, and I swivel in the chair to look over to where it came from, the sight greeting me making me blink. There, standing in the café where I worked at, were two college boys, probably just turned 21, a taller one holding a shoe above his head, bouncing up and down. In front of him danced a smaller boy, hopping from foot to foot, arms swinging madly in the air, their bodies close like a couple of dancing monkeys. The smaller one squealed, reminding me of a chimp, the other giving a deep howling type laugh like an orangutan, skin touching every now and then with only inches between them.
“And on todays episode of ‘The Dying Planet’, we take a look at how one male will seduce another into submission of his will.”
Wow…all the theories I had about human intelligence went away at that one moment, because those were extraordinary examples.
But still…if I ever get abducted, I’d like to see the male seduction episode.
|
Help Us Stop Plagiarism -
Nearly all works at PnP are original. However a few people choose to plagiarize.
To check, choose a phrase from the work, then either drag and drop to the search box or copy and paste.
click on search and works at Google will be shown which match. Just to be sure, please do this before
you recommend or rate the work highly...
|
 |
|
|
|
Select a Random Book
|
|
Welcome !
