No Money Spent

    Today didn't go as planned. After parking in the nearly empty parking lot of the library (I guess I should've figured something wasn't right at this point, but it is a Saturday), I walked to the entrance of the library only to find that it was closed. I was more disappointed than I want to admit, but the library did say it was open online. I had no idea why it was closed. Alas, I headed back to the car without even getting a chance to look at the books with a sullen face. There wasn't anything I could do.

    But it was okay, since I had fun driving back home with the windows down. Instead of spending the day at the library, I took my notebook and paperback to the park to read in nature (which I also thoroughly enjoy as well). 

$$$ → ↓↓↓

    Well, anything happening in school is basically coming to a close as I get ready to graduate (thank god), so tomorrow for one of my last weekends in high school ever I wanted to head to the library the minute it opens. Why? There's a built-in discounted book store in the library where I can hopefully waste a couple bucks buying a few physical books. 

    Oh dear, I said a naughty word, quite a smutty word..."You may well shudder". In all seriousness, I recently bought a paperback copy of Lolita because I've been really invested into the book (yeah, yeah, snicker all you want and call me that.), and only now realized the genuine appeal of physical books. Does it still seem like a waste of money to me? Of course—you're literally paying for paper with ink, and from novels that are easily obtainable for free. Obviously that's not the point, though. The physical book is infinitely more efficient to comb through to look through for passages, and there's something charming about having geography to the text so to speak. Plus, it is satisfying to see your progress through a stack of slowly accumulating pages (for I am in fact a slow reader) rather than a mere percentage. For whatever reason, the book also smells absolutely amazing; I think I've developed an addiction to smelling the inside of the page every time I read. 

    But does this mean I'll stop reading on my computer or Kindle? Definitely not. I still like the fact that the Kindle is able to have any book I want instantly and give all the formatting options. For every other aspect of books, though, I think it's hard to disagree that physical books are just better.

    With that said, I say "hopefully waste" because I'm almost certain that the mini store won't have any of the books I'm looking for, but I guess I'll have to wait and see.

    

PaperQuest (pt. 2)

    Out of fear, I looked out the blurry glass of the front door for any signs of a person, but there wasn't anyone. I could not figure out what was causing my fear, but I knew it had to do with her. Later that afternoon I called Jason to meet up at the burger place in his area. He had a kin to seeing the best in people, and unfortunately it seemed like I always saw the worst in everyone. It didn't matter what scenario I was in. Walking through the halls of high school was fundamentally jostling between a room full of two-bit, two-faced things. Worse yet, the deplorable men around me tried to hide their "virility" behind masks and thus behaved outwardly horrendous (as do the women, of course). Or could it be that they may just be plain, bad people trying to reframe their debasement as a result of this "excess of desire"? Regardless, how could I care to be surrounded by people I didn't know, and even if I thought I did, still didn't? 

    Once somebody in my class tried to ask someone else what game they were playing, and in response the other says: "Do I know you?". At first I was offended, but then I questioned why the first kid would even bother. I was about to shrug it off, but something inside me was still annoyed at the second kid's impudence, so I said pretty loudly: "Does anyone even know you?". No, I did not intentionally try to sound like some white knight, nor was I defending the other kid. I simply didn't like his moronic, rude manner, and if I was anyone else I would've retaliated physically. Besides, what was this plump little idiot going to do if anyone punched him? If I was the other kid, I would've never bothered trying to find these people out, because in the end there's simply no point. Thus, my arm stands still.

    It wasn't just one person, either. No, it was in fact several people, so many that I'd go as far as to say that an unassuming person would probably make a rightfully educated guess that I hated everyone. Speaking for myself, I don't believe I have enough evidence to come to that conclusion yet, but at the same time that assumption is entirely inane... Nobody was safe from my silent judgement as I listened in on their ridiculous conversations. On one of my lasts days in hell, I overheard a few girls speaking loudly and with the most irritating intonation about the tritest, most non-funny thing (I can't even remember what it was), hoping in vain that something seriously bad—so bad that I can't even bring myself to write it—would happen to them to shut them up. What is it with girls and their inherent inability to be quiet? Now, reader, I know you may be quick to roll your eyes and think: "What a sociopathic, arrogant narcissist", but let me assure you that I am not the only one who feels this way. The difference is, however, that I don't dislike school for many of the same reasons. I was never made fun of, never bullied, and never had any extraneous issues in my life. Even with my relatively smooth living, I could never enjoy it.

    I believe part of my cynicism was in part due to where I went to school, too. Once I attended a theatre performances early in the eighth semester (about to be freed!) at another high school not far from my own, and instantly I knew their school to be better. The grass was greener, damn it. I was about to enter the enormous performing arts center. My hands held the metal of the door, but my eyes looked straight ahead to the indigo sky without stars. The light pollution wreathed the sky, making it impossible for the stars to shine their way through. Nevertheless, it was a beautiful campus. The paths were illuminated by the intermittent glow of the street light, surrounded by flourishing grass kissed with the sweet, brisk air of early Spring. I imagined myself sitting on the outskirts of campus indulging in a read before class. Better yet, I thought of a lonely walk around the baseball fields with a hand in my pocket, hearing the crunching of the granular dirt in the infield as my mind wandered aimlessly. The students from the school wearing their sunshine faces didn't help make me feel better either. A twinge of jealousy and longing spread throughout my mind that day. How I wished I could've had even a sliver of this environment. Something inside me knew it would have made me less cynical of the entire experience, but I brushed it off when I remembered how little time I had left.

    Indeed, it would be wrong to say that my judgment of people was probably clouded by my, admittedly awful, contentions—not everyone was purely bad, but then again you never knew... When I walked into the restaurant and saw Jason already sitting in the corner, I knew I had to tell him. Holes began to appear in the plush of the "comfort "of senior year, ones that I'd begged for to disrupt the concurrent gloominess of the fast approaching real world. This didn't enter my mind at the moment I met her, as groaning with anticipation and fear of what Jason would say I tottered through the tables towards his booth. Then, reaching him, I boldly sat down without letting on about anything that was bothering me with a heroic decision to tell him about my uncovering, despite my problem sitting in front of me—he seemed especially made of steel right now. 

    "While I was standing there, I got goosebumps just looking at her. All I know is I don't like her." I said.

    Jason looked at me incredulously. "What, you don't even know her. She could be normal for all you know." 

    I took a sip of my water and slammed it down on the table. "Maybe you're right," I said. "But I'm not going to let it go until I know for sure."

    He sat back in his seat and avoided my eyes, taking a bite of his burger. "What the hell do you mean?"

    "Honestly, I don't know yet. Don't worry about it." I gulped down the rest of my water. 

    

   

(This is a work of fiction)

A Funny Moment

Today was one of the few days that I've felt happy. It was a long day; I had a Chemistry test and a Track meet standing in front of a four-day weekend. During the last Track event of the evening, one of my teammates hilariously started the race with an unbelievably quick stride. It was so fast that I heard nearly every runner in the race (about 25 people) burst out into laughter at the absurdity. Mind you, we were running a 3200 meter race, so getting out at that pace is not ideal. Racing is supposed to be serious, and typically people don't talk or laugh in the first 10 seconds of the race, but since it was the end of the meet and since nobody really wanted to run it, our minds were definitely in a place to laugh. That was probably the only time I've witnessed this. I think it made it better that the race had so many runners. 

And yes, I was also laughing until the 200 meter mark, finding it difficult to get myself together and lock in. What a funny way to end the day.

PaperQuest

Yesterday my notebook ran out of paper, so since it's the start of my spring break I decided to head out on a side-quest for another notebook. I guess my notebook didn't have enough to fulfill my constant flow of letters and words, unencumbered, numbered words; more pages and pages; pages for words; more words than I have ever heard. Fake things; real things; math; literature; on and on. 

    So I left this morning around 10 o'clock. The car didn't have much gas left, and because I didn't feel like paying for a refill and because the store was so close, I chose to go on foot. As I made my way down the street, I looked around. The day was bright and the weather cool, but a brown tint wreathed the horizon ahead. If there was one way to ruin a nice day, it was to be reminded of the displeasures of the current climate. 

    After about twelve minutes I walked through the front doors of the store. That heat... It was hotter in the store than outside. Annoyed, I hurried to the office supply aisle and scanned the shelves for the notebook. A pathetic selection of dusty notebooks that were likely second-hand leftovers were all they had, so I snatched three of the best looking ones and tucked them under my arm. 

    I checked out, placed the receipt in the bag, and strolled out into the now stronger sunlight as the automatic door made its wirr sound. On the way back I thought I'd be completely alone. I needed to be alone, for my mind was going crazy in anticipation. To my surprise and to my disappointment, I saw my cousin in the distance standing beside another girl whom I had no familiarity with. What was I going to do? I couldn't just ignore them—they were right in my path to the house.

    My thoughts consumed me while I treaded to where they were standing, acting like I didn't notice them from afar. My cousin perked up when she saw me. She waved with an expression of half confusion and half interest. 

    "What's up?" I began. In my mind I had no idea where this was going, but I figured a simple hello-goodbye couldn't hurt.

    "Not much, just hanging out with my friend," my cousin pivoted to her friend, then back to me. I didn't bother to look yet. "What are you... doing?"

    "Uh, I had to run to the store for some stuff," I said in embarrassment.

    "What stuff? Can I see?"

    She peered inside the bag as I opened it. "See, just boring stuff."

    "Oh," she shrugged. Then she turned toward her friend again. "This is my friend Cheyenne. I've told you about her before."

    Now I finally looked at her. So this was the "Cheyenne" that she mentioned before. She had wavy, reddish-brown hair past her shoulders resting behind her ear that was studded with diamonds. I stood close enough to see the constellation of freckles across her nose, and a pair of lightning blue eyes reflecting the sunlight of noon. Worst of all, I swear, her mouth, in an idle state, was turned up at the corners. I shuddered instinctively in terror.

    So what was the deal? I was forced to break the awkward silence that followed, and I was also suddenly aware that in examining her I was staring at her.

    "Nice to meetcha," I said finally. 

    Cheyenne looked up at me. "Silly."

    Her voice had sleep. A soft, husky edge to it, and it could be so sweet as to be horrifying. But there must have been some knife in her throat; her voice cut like a file at that response. I stepped back in defense.

    "What? What's silly?" I asked nervously.

    Suddenly she formed a cat-like smile and acted as though nothing was said at all. "Oh, forget it. What did you say your name was?"

    I told her my name. A bad feeling came over me, so bad that I knew that I had to get home right now. I gave a curt good-bye and sped-walked the rest of the way, checking with great certainty that the door was locked.

(A fictitious passage)

    

Composition Book

 So much depends upon

My blue composition book 

beaten with age and use

beside my pen.

Oh, it rests, but soon

I'll dig with it.

What's Your Yam?

Put yourself in the shoes of the Invisible Man in the "Yam Vendor" scene you discussed yesterday. If you found yourself away from home, tell me about a food that would evoke a similar experience for you, and why it is significant to you--is it connected to a particular person, place, and/or event? What would it help me understand about you and your story?  

Slicing the tape that binds the box shut to reveal the bento inside is enough to take me “back, back.” Every summer when I was a little kid, my family visited relatives in the gorgeous island of Kauai, Hawaii. Some of my earliest memories are of the entire family getting together by the sparkling waters of Poʻipū Beach, grilling or enjoying Hawaiian bentos after a great day on the water. The bentos have an assortment of rice, half a hot-dog, potato, fried chicken, beef, macaroni salad, fried shrimp, and other things I can’t put a name to. If nostalgia was a food, this would be the one. It brings me a lot of joy, whatever joy is left in the world, to see my younger cousins from California experiencing the island for themselves for the first time, just like me and my previous generations did years ago. Admittedly it isn’t the same anymore (the island is overrun by tourism more and more each year), but I feel Kauai is as impervious to change as it can be. After reading Invisible Man, my “yam” constantly reminds me of how much you really don’t know what you have until it’s gone. 

Unlike the Narrator, eating the bento in Kauai would have strongest effect rather than in a random place. In a way it puts my mind squarely into a temporary visit of a second home—one that I rarely visit anymore. Nevertheless, as soon as I take the first bite lying on the blanket next to the ocean and the humid breeze begins to hit my face, it feels like nothing else in the world matters, and all my worries drift out into a calming wave...away and away.