As Though Misfortune were Prescribed
In life, I suppose, for every fleetingly superb experience, there is a corresponding amount of shitty circumstances. Today started wonderfully. I was even euphoric for once. But you all might not know that excessive happiness makes me physically sick. In order to prevent the subsequent nausea, headaches, and fever; CIRCUMSTANCE happily provided me with a healthy dose of unfortunate events thereafter so as to quell my predictable malaise.
First, Kontra dance training all but sucked the life out of me. I walked out of that damned building as a corpse. A sweaty one. In a tank top and jeans.
So I arrive at the dormitory tired and more than a little miffed. Then my Mom tells me some very bad news about darling rocker ex (from here on shall be referred to as DRE) and his friend. In a spastic fit of shock, disbelief, and a need to confirm the said news I called up DRE's cousin for details and details he gave. He said that DRE's friend Marvin was just walking down SUnshine park and some frat boys were there getting high and drinking their sorry asses off to numbness. They spotted Marvin alone. Coerced him. Provoked him. Then fucking stabbed him to death. The last hours of Marvin's life was spent asking DRE and other friends for help through his cellular phone. Naturally, DRE responded. But it was too late I guess. He came home that night with bloody clothes and a broken heart. They say he cried at Marvin's wake. He seldom cries. I don't know why frat boys and violence go together. I've known so many innocent people who were all killed by stupid fraternity boys. What do they have to prove??! This has got to end. Dear God.
Whatever life was not sucked away by Kontra training, this very very sad news finished it off. I tried to talk to DRE just to ask him how he's doing. I'm not sure if he's ignoring me or he's just too friggin sad to talk to anyone. I'm worried about him you see. But I'm not sure if I should be feeling this way. I feel like I should comfort him or something. But there are certain boundaries, I think, that are dictated by ex-girlfriend-ship.
Is he resorting to alcohol again to drown out his sadness or has the whole traumatic experience sobered him up?
Cause it sure as hell sobered me up. Actually the right term would be that I was "shocked out of stupor." Confronted with the reality that some people go through such grave events in their lives, I would have liked to consider ceasing to moan and groan about trivial matters such as the soreness of my bodily appendages due to the sprightly calisthenics I chose to undergo. I remember DRE told me once I don't know why he did but ... well he said, "you know what I think? I think all these troubles or earthly things are just obstacles." He meant that something greater was to be achieved than the triviality that we call 'boring everyday life.'
So for now I'll ignore the 'earthly thing' pain I am in. There are bigger things to contemplate, he said. Here is I, hoping DRE is taking his own advice. Though something tells me he doesn't even remember he ever said such a Buddhist-esque piece of wisdom. But heck. Here's hoping.
First, Kontra dance training all but sucked the life out of me. I walked out of that damned building as a corpse. A sweaty one. In a tank top and jeans.
So I arrive at the dormitory tired and more than a little miffed. Then my Mom tells me some very bad news about darling rocker ex (from here on shall be referred to as DRE) and his friend. In a spastic fit of shock, disbelief, and a need to confirm the said news I called up DRE's cousin for details and details he gave. He said that DRE's friend Marvin was just walking down SUnshine park and some frat boys were there getting high and drinking their sorry asses off to numbness. They spotted Marvin alone. Coerced him. Provoked him. Then fucking stabbed him to death. The last hours of Marvin's life was spent asking DRE and other friends for help through his cellular phone. Naturally, DRE responded. But it was too late I guess. He came home that night with bloody clothes and a broken heart. They say he cried at Marvin's wake. He seldom cries. I don't know why frat boys and violence go together. I've known so many innocent people who were all killed by stupid fraternity boys. What do they have to prove??! This has got to end. Dear God.
Whatever life was not sucked away by Kontra training, this very very sad news finished it off. I tried to talk to DRE just to ask him how he's doing. I'm not sure if he's ignoring me or he's just too friggin sad to talk to anyone. I'm worried about him you see. But I'm not sure if I should be feeling this way. I feel like I should comfort him or something. But there are certain boundaries, I think, that are dictated by ex-girlfriend-ship.
Is he resorting to alcohol again to drown out his sadness or has the whole traumatic experience sobered him up?
Cause it sure as hell sobered me up. Actually the right term would be that I was "shocked out of stupor." Confronted with the reality that some people go through such grave events in their lives, I would have liked to consider ceasing to moan and groan about trivial matters such as the soreness of my bodily appendages due to the sprightly calisthenics I chose to undergo. I remember DRE told me once I don't know why he did but ... well he said, "you know what I think? I think all these troubles or earthly things are just obstacles." He meant that something greater was to be achieved than the triviality that we call 'boring everyday life.'
So for now I'll ignore the 'earthly thing' pain I am in. There are bigger things to contemplate, he said. Here is I, hoping DRE is taking his own advice. Though something tells me he doesn't even remember he ever said such a Buddhist-esque piece of wisdom. But heck. Here's hoping.