I don't like that you write so many words in this blog and yet you manage to not say anything.
As much as I can appreciate you voicing your opinion, I feel like while you're telling us to be ourselves and be unique, you're trying to be something you're not with big words and "existential" thoughts.
I feel like, after having read three of your blogs, nothing but little quips and "deep thoughts" have been presented.
Quit trying so hard."
This, to me is very disappointing. Beyond disappointing. After reading this comment I think that I suffered a brain hemorrhage or two. What you said Anonymous was probably the most bombastic remark that anyone has ever come up with in their life. Trying to search for a theme, however, I've decided that you would like to see a blog with out any "deeper meaning" stuff. Maybe I am just naive, but I don't think anyone can get 'less deep,' if you will, than the fact that I did not find any peas in a microwave dinner I was eating. It cannot be proven, but I think that the only reason you found a problem with my blog was because of some bigotry that you have with me.
Alas, my good friend Elze, whom I have quoted numerous times in the blog before says that I need stop being so arrogant, and try to accept other people's criticisms. I highly doubt the first part will ever happen, but this is me attempting the latter:
My brother plays division III college football in Illinois (and before you ask, no he does not play for Illinois, the team that beat Ohio State this weekend). He is 21 and a senior. Saturday was to be his last game, and since I have not seen him for a year plus, I thought it would be a good idea to go and visit. I awoke, after two hours of sleep, at 2:30 in the morning. Took a shower, brushed my teeth, and after, waited another half hour for my mother to return from the depths of her closet. Our journey began shortly after 3:30.
My mother and father have recently decided that it was in our financial capability to purchase a new car. Or rather, SUV. The Mercury Mariner.
This made the journey all the more fun. Equipped standard is the Sirius satellite radio. I do not think there has been an invention more beneficial to Human Kind. Sorry Thomas Edision. This meant that I was able to listen to the likes of Ryan Adams and his folk-rock cronies, and when that got boring I just switched to the Comedy station to laugh out loud-literally- to the comedic genius of hundreds. It gets even better.
Because of our early departure time, I was blessed with the unique experience of being able to watch the world wake up.(Matt just said to me,
"Nevermind42592 (9:52:01 AM): somewhere in that post, just throw my name in it.") What made it better was the fact that around six or seven, when the majority of people are getting up, ready for work, we were driving through Columbus...or maybe Cincinnati, I do not remember. Now, I am not a master of drugs, so I do not know how this will rival their experiences, but the feeling of watching the lights flicker on in a big city was very euphoric. In fact, I encourage you to some day take a drive on a highway overlooking a city. I promise you, you will not be disappointed.
Nothing significant in the car happened after that, so I will skip ahead to the game: My brother's team lost.
After every game my mother always meets my brother to have a quick talk before his return to the locker room. I stood coolly, like the idiot I am, waiting for him to come over. Adorned with my two-month-high-school-beard, corduroy jacket, and grey scarf, I was egar for him to see how much I had grown up in the past 15 odd months. He immediately gave my mother a hug. I diagnosed this as an isolated incident. My brother has this need to feel tough, bravado is his middle name. He turned to me, I shook his hand and smoothly asked, "How's it going?"
Fast froward 45 minutes and the three of us are walking into Vic's Family Restaurant. I found this ironic, because I've come to realize that we are not much of a family anymore. We sat down, and my brother's face was immediately hidden behind his new cell phone. My dad used to pay his cell phone bill, but he decided that that wasn't sufficient-for reasons undisclosed-and bought his own plan. In fact the only time he broke away from his electronics was to talk to a good friend of his who coincidentally had found himself at the same restaurant at the same time. This young man, Aaron, had just been engaged that day. I believe then that it was our duty to try and defeat whoever holds the record for "fastest time three people have eaten three different meals." I have not verified with Guiness World Records, but I believe we have accomplished our goal.
The night ended as we took my brother to the liquor store to which he is employed. He bought some alcohol and we set off for his dorm. With another handshake, and a kiss from my mother he was gone. It has recently occurred to me that this may very well be the last time I see him in the college town of Jacksonville, Illinois.
It was not until I was driving home, my mother asleep in the passenger seat that this feeling of nostalgia overtook me. Where had the days of old gone to? Where had the boy gone that used to throw me against the wall for pleasure? For nine hours, I bit my cheeks to keep myself from crying.
Has anyone else experienced this? Leave a comment explaining, please.
10 comments:
while I try to disallow nostalgia entering my mind, mostly to avoid the awkward situation of biting my cheek for hours on end, I have had what I would like to hope are relatively similar events in my life where for a brief second I look back on those sunday mornings with my entire family in the kitchen, my brothers trying in vain to help my mother making cookies, my sister cooing in the highchair looking out the window while (I guess I was wrong about the whole family being in the kitchen) my father was outside working on the lawn, as always, and I, the little boy I was, sat on the floor staring up at everyone having what seemed like a good time.
Then, of course, I'm thrust back into the reality of the situation, my sisters screaming almost constantly, my brothers mysteriously gone from the family, my mother till attempting in vain to make some baked treats, and me, as always, sitting shirtless at the computer typing away at a comment on someone's blog
aww.
I can see that happening in the next few years with my family. I'm not the best at keeping in touch.
i know exactly where you're coming from. my big sis is now a freshman in college, and our relationship as siblings will never hold the same sort of bond it once had.
can you guess who this is, what with my elementary vocabulary and simple sentence structure? no, ethan sales.
this made me somewhat sad =/
but your favorite part is very beautiful and the part that actually the most nostalgic part of the blog for me =D it's beautiful and reminds me of really long car rides i used to take with my friend ben.
love.
It's not a strange occurrence, my friend. I think it may even happen with most.
And you have to remember: not only has your brother changed, but you have, too. I guess it's just a matter of both of you getting to know each other again.
It won't be the same. And sure, you'll get nostalgic from time to time. But it would be some sort of relationship and perhaps everyone wouldn't feel so uncomfortable.
This takes time, though.
PS: I wish I could take my own advice.
this is probably my favorite blog. nostalgia is one of my most often felt emotions. and being over-emotional, as I am, that infers that it is felt a lot... whether it be for my my past state or simply feeling (pre)remorse for knowing I will feel it in my upcoming days. I suppose any kind of natural emotion such as this is a part of life- and is a beautiful thing in the over-all aspect of life. It's hell to go through, but comforting in that we have had happy/memorable/routine (whichever you chose. -any which way they are enough to pine for-) moments in our lives and will most likely have many more to come.
Sincerely,
Nancy Drew
Good Morning.
You will always experience criticism in your writings. Don't let it discourage you. You have a following of readers, whether they are your high school peers or distant readers from below the equator. Don't allow those who inappropriately express their opinions of your writings to influence what you do. Criticism can be beneficial, however when certain individuals belittle a work or otherwise degrade it, that crosses a line. Write what you want. The details of your late-night excursions to the kitchen to satisfy your hunger are what give your compositions character and make them unique to you, the writer. If you choose to take such a path, I imagine you would have quite a future in writing. You have the potential to be quite a successful journalist or columnist. Your future is your decision.
Happy Blogging.
hmm...who is it that decides to poke fun at me? fuck that.
best entry so far.
(Quick note before I begin: I am, of course, the "bombastic" anonymous.)
The fact that what you got out of my comment was that I didn't want "deeper meaning" is ridiculous. My point was that what you write is some of the most pretentious and trite stuff I have ever read. You're attempts at being "deep" are what ought to be stopped immediately.
To quote you:
"So, I've decided to come up with an enumeration (that is, for all of you whose repertoire is not as large as mine, list) of things for you to do that would be more deserving of 35 dollars patronage."
The fact that this sentence is real disgusts me. I'm sure you're much better than everyone else: you shop at VDO, you cut your own hair, you so don't care what anyone thinks about you.
I have nothing against you blogging; please, blog away, blog all you want. But really, if you're going to blog, you ought to write about something worth reading. There are plenty of hip 16 year olds who think they're outlook on life is mature and wise, when the fact is this stuff pouring out of your mouth (or rather being written on your blog) is a bunch of useless garbage.
Oh, and before I click 'publish', I can feel a point about to be made about this comment. The fact that I came back even though I loathe your blog. I wanted to see if you had taken note of my previous comment and indeed you have: and, to my delight, you've even written an entry dedicated to it!
Post a Comment