Saturday, February 18, 2012

it's just my luck to end up getting stuck to everything

after installing and updating a new virtual machine on junior, fitting it with an operating system i have never used before, and continuing with this semester's murder of the free memory space on my computer, the programs and plugins i need to do my labs are finally downloading right. i spend the time they are downloading alternating between watching the orange bar tell me how much progress has been made and doodling words and song lyrics in the notebook open next to me. i'm sprawled out across my bed on my stomach, the sunlight glares off my computer screen, and the hum of a soccer game on the tv reaches me from the living room. i rest my head on the back of my hand, my wrist bent, and i can smell the ink in my black pen - taken from mason's parking services a couple years back. it's almost sweet, and it tugs at a memory in the back of my mind.

and suddenly i'm in a different room, lying on my stomach on the carpeted floor, bathed in the sunlight of early spring. i'm scribbling furiously into a red binder, desperate to get this thought out before i forget how to word it perfectly. i could smell the ink then too, sweet with a hint of something else i couldn't take the time to pinpoint. my mind is lost in a world of magic and cocky teenage guys with perfect hair and rolled up sleeves. my sister pulls me out of the story to tell me i'm pathetic. i ignore her, thinking instead of the reaction my part will get tomorrow at school, at how my friend will continue where i left off. i put my pen down and flip back over the pages i had just written, my handwriting covering both sides. the stack of written pages is thick, we'll soon need another binder. i add the page number at the top outside corner of each page, circling it, amazed at how much we've already written. the thoughts that there are only a couple months left of school, that the story would have to end, that i wouldn't experience the thrill of seeing my friend walk in with the binder in the morning for much longer, that i would probably rarely see my friend at all anymore are pushed out of my head. there's still enough time left that i can ignore them for now. and i am happy.

*All Hail the Heartbreaker - The Spill Canvas


  1. :'(
    i still get that constricted chest feeling when i read that paragraph you wrote, where sirius goes back up to his dorm and remembers all his days.
    i was superrrr reluctant to end the writing, i forced you to keep going well through college freshman year, haha.

  2. i was so excited when you started the second story. though i remember how i felt so useless writing in college because i would come up with like ten pages a day in high school and it would take weeks to finish a couple of pages in college. who knows, maybe one day you'll wake up to a new part in your inbox and a demand from me to continue.

  3. anonymous hippopotamusFebruary 19, 2012 at 10:22 AM

    I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THIS POST!!! okay now turn it into a novel. the description is amazing...i almost felt myself squinting from the glare when i read the part about the computer on your bed. and the last sentence...i am happy almost made me tear up.

    seriously...proof that you could write an amazing book! (not necessarily same topic just the description you've used shows the potential for an amazing book)

    i've read it three times...i love love loooove it!

  4. lol thanks. not sure how much i believe you, but it's nice to hear regardless. and in case you were wondering, you're the sister that called me pathetic.

  5. anonymous hippopotamusFebruary 20, 2012 at 12:25 PM

    seriously?! i dont remember that either. you're making me sound horrible. first whipping you with jump ropes, then telling you not to study linux and now this! i don't believe you.

  6. lol it's not like you whipped us hard enough to hurt us. and this is 100% true. in your defense, it was sort of pathetic (in the awesomest of ways), and the line i had just written that brought on your comment was something like "he ran his hand through his hair, giving him a fresh off of a broomstick look." definitely worthy of your mocking.

  7. that line is definitely, definitely worth the mocking. honestly it was bad writing a lot of the time, partly because it was rushed nightly. partly because it was a tag-like game, and mostly because it should have been a small story plot line that we prolonged for the sake of it. i LOVED every minute of it.
    the fact that we were not the most intimate friends, but then randomly started a story in ap calc together was the best. you became the person i looked forward to seeing every day, and then the person i wanted to talk to the rest of the day. all over a severely windswept, angst, fictional guy.

  8. haha yeah, and the fact that we felt like every day something amazing had to happen so when it all came together it was like one commotion after another. i was mocking myself for lines like that after the fact. but i did too. totally and completely.
    "not the most intimate of friends" is right. i think i talked to you like twice from elementary to junior year. and now you're one of the few people i keep on my radar. that story is magic i tell you.

  9. anonymous hippopotamusFebruary 21, 2012 at 8:46 PM

    "he ran his hand through his hair, giving him a fresh off of a broomstick look." <<<<<<<OMG! i remember now! hahaha i did call you pathetic. hahahaha that is the most retarded line ever!!! LOOOL omg i can't believe the person who wrote that line is the same person who wrote this post. :D im dying here...that line is just too much. (i'm also kinda tired)

  10. i'll take that as a compliment. thanks.