Memorial

I watched a woman die outside of a chicken restaurant one time.

Or at least I think I did. See, the ambulance came and took her away, so I don't know if she survived or not. What I do know is that she had some sort of siezure in the parking lot and her head smashed against the ground, leaving her wriggling on the ground. There was so much blood it carried itself to the gutter, and sickened me to my stomach. She had this look in her face like it was all over, but I couldn't do anything. I was actually in the drive through window of my first job (the chicken place) screaming, asking if she was alright.

This old black lady got there before me and called the ambulance.

It's something I think about every once in a while, because it marked a change in who I thought I was. I stopped watching or even enjoying gorey movies. I started questioning the fragility of life, and I didn't even have to join the army to do it.

I also remember that nobody else seemed to give a shit. I mean pretty much everyone I worked with saw what I did, but it didn't bother them all. Okay, so most of them are cambodian refugees, so maybe they have seen worse things. But I wonder if I'm just overly sensitive.

My friend Chrystina said I should try and track this woman down to see if she really died or not, but I'm not sure how I'd even do that. I'm also not completely sure it would ease my mind. I was going to see something like that eventually, I imagine.

I think I had almost forgotten about it until I saw the trailer for Mad World a while back. Now, don't get me wrong. I know the difference between cartoon violence and the hard stuff. But there was this scene where the main character jammed a stop sign into some guy's throat and he was just screaming. Just screaming about how he didn't want to die.

That woman didn't scream out on the parking lot because she was unconscious. I imagine if she was of sober mind how horrifying it would have been. I don't think I could have just stood there and watched like I did. A person screaming out of fear of death just strikes a chord with me somewhere.

So I'm gonna ask a question to anyone who may have experienced something like this. What did it do to you?

High school blues

The other night I had a dream that all my teeth fell out, so as soon as I woke up I brushed my teeth.

Let me also mention that I woke up at 6am. This is because I "volunteered" to help out a local high school because best buy sponsors them. This means that I have sort of just hop along with some high school kids that might possibly be attending this college we're visiting.

The thing is, they don't need help. Things are organized so well that they don't need anyone to watch the kids at all. So that leaves me following Mr Ellison, the teacher in charge of the kids.

What you need to know about Mr Ellison is that he is old as fuck. I mean, he is nice and all, but super old. And he loves to talk. It doesn't matter who. Everytime we bumped into somebody he even remotely recognized he would start talking to them. He would even walk up to random students and talk about how different the school was back when he was enrolled.

Later he told me he does this because he never knows if it'll be the last time he talks to them, him being so old. Hearing that kind of makes me sad.

So around lunch time, I get seperated from him which isn't terribly bad, but I'm alone here. It's not like I know anyone. I find a table away from everyone else so I can get some quiet. This way I can call my manager and tell her how pissed I am that I'm the only one that showed up. Yeah, 3 other people were supposed to join me but they all bailed because they douchewagons. Well the manager isn't in, but the one who answers the phone is one of the people that was supposed to come with me and she's all Im sorry Im sorry.

So here comes the awkward part.

Some teachers notice me sitting alone and decide to sit with me. As it turns out, they think I'm a student brought along with the trip, but I don't try to correct them. Not yet, anyway. So the teachers bring two girls with them. High school girls.

Right so one of the girls sits across from me despite the fact that her friend is at the other table next to us. She's also been staring at me since she arrived, but always looks away when I look back at her. I'm thinking uh oh.

Now let it be known that I had no interest in this girl. First off, my loyalties lie elsewhere (hi sophia). Two, jailbait. Yeah.

So this girl is looking at her friend and giggling, and they whisper stuff to each other. Like I haven't played this game before. I'm starting to realize they think I'm a student, and I need to rectify this. Of course I don't. So this little high school girl is just trying to get my attention. She comments on my hair (which is super badass btw so I don't blame her). At some point she tries to hug me and I just sort of shrug it off like no Im fine.

She leaves to get food, and I start talking to everyone else. The teachers say she has boundaries issues, and Im like yeah. They then ask me what grade I'm in.

After I explain that I'm with best buy, they kind of just look at each other and say does she know that you're and adult? I say probably not. They say I need to tell her.

Now how the fuck am I supposed to articulate that? Like, oh btw I'm 22 and you are jailbait so later?

A young girl with a crush on my doesn't make me uncomfortable. But adults looking at me like I'm some sort of child predator does. So I try to avoid looking like I'm enjoying her company, which isn't too hard but makes me feel like a dickhead. Eventually, she asks me if she'll see me at school and I tell her I'm in college.

She goes oh and blushes.

And then she starts rattling off names of people that go to my school and asks me if I know them.

Aw well fuck.

Luckily, Mr Ellison shows up and decides to leave so I go with him. I get waved goodbye, and this girl just looks so sad and I feel like the biggest douche of all time.

I follow Mr Ellison to the gym where we're watching the final presentations and I sit at the very top of the bleachers all by my lonesome. Guess who shows up? Right so she catches my eye and just sort of shyly waves at me. I'm like ughhhh, but she sincerely asks me may I sit with you? I tell her I guess.

While we're sitting she mentions being cold.

Noooo. Listen guys, my jacket doesn't come off. It is part of the outfit. Without it, I just look like a businessman. I ask her why she doesn't put her jacket on, considering she isn't wearing it. She says she's so skinny it doesn't matter because she's always cold. Aw.

So we file out of the gym and she does the sad wave thing again. Argh.

The worst thing by far, which actually made me feel bad, was when I got outside. I'm waiting with Ellison and his kids, when I sort of see high school girl out of the corner of my eye. I try to pretend like I don't see her.

But she does this thing where she walks halfway towards me, and then immediately turns around, looks at the floor and walks away. She does this like three times, and I actually just wanted to stop her and be like listen. My name is james but this is highly inappropriate. But of course I don't. I let her think I'm a jerk because it's probably better this way.

Because, guys, that sort of crush is based on appearance alone. She probably saw me and just latched on to a guy that looks wildly different than what she's used to. I know it wasn't my personality, because like I said, I would douching it up. Also I maybe said like 3 sentences to her the entire time I was there.

And aside from the way I look, I am terribly fucking weird. Sometimes I don't know how sophia can stand it. I am this awful hypocrite. I can name off the model numbers of mobile suits but make fun of my friends that watch anime. I have an obsessive personality, but a severe issue with commitment. Also, financially, I'm not exactly secure. I am not boyfriend material.

So that is that.

Now despite all this, I have to go to work. Yeah, we don't get back until 5:30. I was supposed to be at work at 4, but they know where I am. Well I thought so anyway. As soon as I get there people are freaking out asking me why I'm late.

I don't even answer them. I am mentally exhausted, wondering how long Mr Ellison could go on, and if I broke somebody's heart.

I'm gonna stop here, because everything else was sort of meh.

Ugh.

I need new people in my life.

Dear diary

Dear diary, 

I woke up today and started getting ready for work when I realized that there was a small spot of blood on my shoe. I couldn't think of what it might be, but then I noticed there was a dead carcass under my computer desk, and I may have accidentally kicked it while I was on the computer last night. 

Thinking it was a prank from one of my friends, I examined the body and realized that it was a real, once living person. In a panic, I covered the corpse in dirty clothes so it would look like the rest of my room. 

I thought about calling in to work but I had already called in this week, and I might have been questioned. I just crossed my fingers and hoped nobody would look in my room. 

The sight of a dead body made my stomach upset, so when grandma asked me if I was going to eat something before work I just shook my head and tried to not look her in the eye. So my dad sits down at the table and grandma starts telling him about this missing person they're talking about on the news. 

I just laughed nervously and said, "that's terrible." 

At work I performed poorly because I obviously had more important things on my mind. I asked my supervisor to let me work an easy section, so she puts me in gaming. Things were going well until I get a text message from my friend. 

hey u wanna hang out l8r?? 

I tell him I have something important to do later and he responds. 

ya i no all about that. ill pick u up from work. 

At this point I'm confused and hungry and I don't object at all. He shows up to work about a half hour before my shift is over and I see him looking at ipods. I walked up to him and told him hey man, I really cannot hang out today. 

He tells me to chill out, and after I get off we leave to get some food. We park in the driveway of a place I don't recognize and I ask him if its a new restaurant. He shrugs. When we walk in everyone starts waving at me and saying hello. I don't know these people, but they seem to know me. 

Its our man, they say. Its that guy! 

I ask them who they think I am, and they pretend like I'm joking. C'mon, man. That's what they tell me. I turn to my friend and tell him I'm not hungry after all, but everyone starts to push me towards the center of the room. 

They tell me I was the winner last night. The winner of what, I ask? As soon as I talk one guy opens up a set of curtains. Behind the curtains is a man tied to a large, spinning circle. 

They tell me I'm an expert at this and hand me a knife. I don't know what they're talking about.Throw! They shout it at me. Throw! I tell them I don't want to. Last night I didn't have any objections, they tell me. Last night I was awesome. My friend asks me why I don't remember anything, but I honestly don't know. Maybe I do this all the time. Why would I forget something like this? 

Throw! Throw! They chant. 

So I throw, and the knife punctures the man through the lung. The crowd goes wild. 

You did it! They cheer. 

The guy who opened the curtains unstraps the dying man from the spinning wheel and starts the wrap the guy in some sort of powdered paper. He tells my friend to take care of the body. 

My friend turns to me and says I need to find a ride home, but it shouldn't be hard because the people here are really cool. Then he takes the body and loads it up in the back of his SUV. I ask him why he can't take me home, and he says its because he has to give somebody else a ride. I ask who? 

"You see that drunk guy right there? He's not gonna remember anything that happened tonight."

Destroy Boy

I wake up with a headache and I'm like ten years old. I sleep in a small wooden shed outside of my parent's country home, which is surrounded by miles and miles of green. On one side there are trees, and on the other side there is nothing. I am miles away from other people, so there is a lady in a wagon that comes to pick me up for school. But first I need to eat breakfast in my parents' house. 

I'm meant to knock on the door of their house, but I just walk in. I get scolded. I sit at my usual seat at the table and look up at mom and dad. He likes to wear a white panama hat, and she wears the same dress every day. At least I think it's the same one. 

Dad needs to shave. It started out as laziness, but now he grows a beard as some sort of sick sense of defiance. He goes on about how he hates pretty faced "faggots" and mom nods. Mom hates the beard too. I can tell when I look at her. She was probably pretty at some point, but now her eyes have sunken into complacency. She follows dad's dismal thinking because where she is from, they don't let women think. Good stuff.  

It's the fourth of July. I ask dad what we are doing to celebrate. He says I'm not meant to know.

After school I come home and we eat dinner. Dad says he has a surprise. 

He takes us outside and says, "These are fireworks."

I find out that fireworks are the most amazing thing. They explode into beatiful colors. They can be entertaining, but dangerous if not handled properly. I fell in love at first sight. 

The next day I bring a firework to school and I tell a classmate to hold on to it and it goes off in his hand. At first I didn't respect their destructive power, but after this I do. I get scolded as usual, but it doesn't bother me much. I had found something to give me a bit of meaning. 

So when I eventually killed my father, I used fireworks. I thought it would be funny, but it really wasn't. Still glad I did it though. Killing dad wasn't like a huge act of revenge or anything. It was just on a list of things I had planned to do, and I was inspired at the moment. You might think that I hated the man, but it was more like I had no feeling for or against him at all. 

I've heard somebody call me a sociopath. No, that's not true. People like you and I have devils in us. It's that devil that causes us to do things like that. It makes us stronger, faster, and impossible to kill. You know? It's that obsession. I know you feel it. 

Crab Kings

Based on a filipino folk story. I added a bit to it.

The Crabs were a frustrated race. Always racing from side to side, and nobody knows what they're doing. It is said that because of the warring nature of the crabs, they have two kings. One in time of diplomacy, and one in times of war. It is also said that if a crab were to be to become too powerful, it was common for him to be assassinated, therefore most of the crab kings chose to stay in line.

 

During the time of this story, the two crab kings were actually brothers. Though they were related, and looked nearly identitical, they really were nothing alike. The first brother was kind and gentle, and always using reason to solve issues. The second brother was rash and violent, choosing force over words. 

So one day in the crab council, the second brother brought up that the waves were too loud and that the crabs could not sleep at night. Tired, restless crabs could not defend other crabs, so this was a very serious issue. The first brother decided, since he was the active king, that he would reason with the waves. The second brother, though he did not approve, had no say in the matter and thus kept his mouth shut. 

But a sad thing happened. Days went by and the first brother never returned. Though the second brother didn't get along with the first brother, he still loved him very much. Hurt and confused, the second brother rallied all the able-bodied male crabs and started to march towards the waves. 

Along the way, the second brother and his army encountered a shrimp. The shrimp, curious as he is, asked the crab warriors where they were headed. 

"We are waging war with the waves," said the king. "For they have kept us awake and killed my beloved brother."

The shrimp laughed. 

"But your legs are so weak, they have to bend to support your heavy bodies. You will be washed off your feet and die before you strike a single blow!"

The king was furious. He ordered his men to apprehend the shrimp, and torture it with thier pincers. 

"Okay! Okay! I will try to steer the battle in your favor. Please let me go!"

So they let him go. 

They arrived at the shore a while later and prepared for war. This is when the king crab noticed that the shrimp's eyes were set, and he figured this was an anatomical error. 

"Listen, shrimp. You are facing the wrong way. How will you help us fight the waves? What weapon do you wield?"

"I wield a spear on my head," said the shrimp. 

Then suddenly a huge wave rushed forward, and the shrimp swam away to safety. The crabs, since they were looking the wrong way, were washed off their feet, covered with water, and drowned. This is considered the saddest day in crab history. 

Soon after, the wives of the crab warriors wandered to thes shores looking for their long lost husbands. But unprepared, they too were washed away and murdered by the cruel waves. 

After that, little crabs would come to the shore looking for their parents. The sad, old regretful shrimp would stand near the shore and tell them the cruel fates their fathers suffered, but always upsold their bravery. This is why crabs now live near the water. 

They scuttle back and forth, trying to kill the waves. 

Angry?

I don't understand people that get angry. 

Anger gives you a temporary boost of strength, which in "The Real World" really doesn't help you at all. If you're not playing sports, or fighting for your life, then what is the point?

I'm sure people have noticed when they sit still, pissed off, they just stew and can't focus on anything else. How is that going to help you? 

Not to say I don't get angry. I just don't get angry like some people do. My mom will go on screaming about how I don't ever put the dishes up, but the fact is, if I do put the dishes up then grandma gets upset because I'll somehow mess it up. 

So you can see the humor here. I'm going to piss off somebody no matter what. My brother gets mad about this. He starts yelling about the injustice, but he really shouldn't because it is hilarious. 

If mom and grandma realized that, they wouldn't laugh either because they're just angry people. I can't relate to them.

Dad gets passive agressive when he's pissed. Talks real nice when meaning snide things. If you roll your eyes he gets even angrier. But he can't punch me. His heart is too small and he would pass out. So how is a burst of physical energy going to help him?

It's not. I'd knock his ass out, unfairly so. Psh, honor. 

Speaking of, the subject of honor came up the other day. Some guys at work were saying it wasn't honorable to shoot a guy while he was reloading, but I always figured that was the perfect time to shoot somebody. I'm sure most people that are getting fucking shot at would agree. If that rule were ever in effect, I would just use my reloading time to move forward since they couldn't shoot me. Plus, I could probably fire first after reloading, because they couldn't be sure when I stopped reloading in the first place. 

I'd be the best gunfighter in a world where the rules stop you from being unfair. Ironic. 

I will never respect the concept of honor until a line is drawn between what is honorable and dishonorable. Even then, I'm pretty sure anybody with a little logic and reasoning could tear it apart. It's not hard. Honor is as invisible as God is. And we all know how He feels about the scientific method. 

I can't seem to write 500 words on a particular subject so my posts get all fragmented. Next time I may just try to write about one thing. 

But now I'll talk about Sacred 2. It's a fun game. Addictive. But god, the art direction upsets me. It's like they chose to create this awesome fantasy world but decided they'd do so without style. So every character looks like a twiggy version of a human with super high cheek bones and body parts that are too thin in some places and too robust in others. 

Why would you do that? What's worse is that not many people seem to be bothered by the ugliness. I know it's not just me. Speak up, guys.