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February 17, 2009 | 04:13am
Mood: colliding
Music: Jonatha Brooke & The Story - No Better

I'm kind of becoming a workaholic. I'm doing a lot of studying. I mean, a fucking shitload. My homework for the rest of the week consists of answering a few questions in my Russian textbook and coming up with a few questions for the sixth part of Pushkin's Queen of Spades. Not bad, not bad at all. On the other hand... I have nothing to do. I may go insane. Or begin next week's homework.

The following is a stupid thing I wrote earlier today. It's not a great work of literature or anything, and it's also unedited. It's based on a conversation I had with a friend. I've written more that I won't be posting - yet? - so yeah. Read if you'd like.

"This world is going crazy
I think I'm through listening to you"
- Islands, "Don't Call Me Whitney, Bobby"

I was in the student union when I woke up.

I don't know what came upon me that day. My class had let out early, and I had a good thirty minutes to kill before I had to head off to work. I was probably going to spend my time copying hundreds of pages of obscure Russian texts that I could barely understand and scanning another few hundred pages of articles into Dr. Marinin's computer. I was so tired that making it through class, even though it was shortened, had been nearly impossible, and I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it through work, and, later, my final class of the day without caffeine.

So I went to the student union. They had a cafe that I'd heard was good, although I never went there myself - Rob doesn't approve of coffee. He says it tastes disgusting. I'd never tried it, so I never had any opinion on the matter. I just knew I needed to stay awake.

After standing in a long, winding line for ten minutes, I ended up ordering something with an improbable name - along the lines of "Raspberry Chocolate Mocha Cappuccino Delight" - which ended up tasting like cold chalk with a hint of cocoa. After taking a second sip, I decided that Rob was right, like always: it did taste disgusting. I threw it out.

Not feeling any more awake that before, I went into the food court and bought a bottle of some sort of diet soft drink. I don't even like pop, but Rob only drinks diet - he's into eating healthy - so that's what I got. I found a seat in a corner of the room, near a television turned to a station showing cartoons, and twisted the top off the soda. It tasted okay. Better than the chocolate mocha thing.

It was only a little after ten in the morning, so there were not many people in the food court. A group of frat guys had a few tables pushed together over near the entrance, and a few people were spread out with open textbooks and notebooks, eating a late breakfast or an early lunch. I was alone in my corner, so I watched a dog battle a space alien on the television.

After a few minutes, two people took a seat at a table a few feet away from me. I unconsciously stiffened. There were plenty of empty tables spread throughout the room; why did they have to choose to sit at a table near me? I turned away from the television, just slightly, and gave them a cursory glance. The two people were a guy and a girl; the guy was slim to the point of appearing sickly, with a large sandwich in hand and a notebook spread across the table in front of him, and the girl was an average blond with a long, narrow face. I didn't know either of them, so I turned back to the television, but the cartoon was on a commercial break.

"--get what she sees in him," the guy said. I tried in vain to focus on the television. "You'd think that if several people had told her that he was a jerk--that he molested people, stalked them, and cheated on them, you'd think she would've learned to stay away from him."

"He's hot," the blond said simply.

"Does that matter?" the guy asked. "I mean, being hot doesn't make up for being a douche."

The girl shrugged. "He's really hot," she said, a little dreamily, I thought. "He's got a great body, he's blond, he has really beautiful eyes--" The tone of her voice changed slightly, becoming distasteful. "But he's a total creep."

The guy took a bite from his sandwich. "He is a total creep," he said feverishly, narrowly avoiding spitting lettuce and tomato all over the table. "Why doesn't she learn?"

Why doesn't she learn? I thought. This is what they call an epiphany: the words reverberated in my head; the noise of the student union faded to a dull roar and suddenly I could hear my heart beat, beat, beating, in time with those four words. Why doesn't she learn?

Why doesn't she learn?

Why won't she learn?


"I just don't get why girls go for him. It can't just be his appearance," the guy said, simultaneously crumbling up his sandwich wrapper and shaking me from my reverie, or epiphany, or whatever it was. I glanced at my watch - it was time for me to head off to Dr. Marinin's office. He doesn't tolerate tardiness. Just like Rob.

"He's hot," the girl said. "And sometimes hotness trumps being an asshole. And some people are into the creep thing."

I put the cap back on my bottle and got to my feet. The guy gave me a cursory glance before turning back to his friend. "One day she'll get over him," he said.

I pulled on my jacket, slid my backpack onto my back, and walked away - leaving them, the food court, and the dream behind.

One day I'll get over him, I thought.

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Comments {2}

(no subject)

from: anonymous
date: February 24, 2009 11:42am (UTC)

I really like it! I am not sure about the 'beat, beat, beating' bit, though. It sticks out strangely in the style of writing you're doing otherwise. I guess it's a preference thing, but I would say to nix that wording.

Uhh, not to be nit-picky, lol. This is really interesting and you are a really good writer, Adam! I want to read the rest of what you've written on this! :)

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(no subject)

from: anonymous
date: February 24, 2009 11:42am (UTC)

Whoops, that was from me!


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