I know you will not read this, but still I must write
. I know I've only been here for a short while, but I know
these people. They're writers
, Trey. They're readers
. They're like you, and they're like me, they write angsty
poetry on napkins, they rant endlessly on receipt paper. They allow books to change their life and make them people
. These people smoke
or they're straight-edge
. They're religious
and beautiful monstrous
and they're writers
for god's sake. I bet they even make their own soda, and are invisible in anything other than Marvel t-shirts. Just like me. Just like you.
This is a day node, and so therefore I will tell you (all of you) about my day. Whose Army? is making a still-frame video for their kickstart. This involves drawing and creating a backdrop, filming, and playing games on a PS3 while smoking weed and drinking cheap beer. I'm still working on their website, and checking my text messages to see if anyone has tried to talk. No one ever has. Still, I am feeling no pain and thinking too hard. Has anyone ever tried to figure out every possible chord? There are too many. Oh, but didn't you fail music theory? Or maybe that was someone else. I'm sure a lot of people fail it. The only reason I didn't is because I tested out.
I still talk to you as though you'll reply, you know. Well, you do know. And I try to be happy that you don't. But you could still be my best friend. You won't feel it when it kicks, it's all brand new. I still haven't accepted it. It's a metaphor, Trey, and until you loan me a cigarette and tell me to talk, you won't understand.
I had planned out a speech about how we were soulmates though neither of us believe in them; how we are made of the same stuff - we are made of star stuff - and how all three of us could complete each other's lives, if only you could be less stubborn, I could be less explosive, and he could be less honest. Hah. We could be a bad comic book love triangle, only less awesome.
We are civil engineers with less math and more Doritos! Via la vie hipster.