martes, 1 de enero de 2013

Chapter 1

Think about it. Get ready. Freak out. Puke. Think again. Change your mind.

Fall in love; you’ll cherish that when you get old.

Make mistakes, get drunk, smoke some weed, sleep around. Wear the same jeans for three days, and a really tight white tee, it won't fit you again. Cut your hair, grow it long, dye it pink, shave it back. Work out, you have the time, eat junk food, won't be that bad. Read a book, read the news, listen up and do talk back. 

The ceiling is dirty. A few spots of grease on it, who knows how they got there. The floor is even worse, haven't vacuumed in months. The computer’s brilliant screen is annoying in the dark, why it is still on is a mystery to me. In this silence, the ticking of the watch on the coffee table can be heard loud and clear across the room.

Go to class but skip a few, they won't miss you there. Pick a fight, break your nose, taste the blood, spit it out. Take some pictures, you’ll want to remember this. Laugh, cry, smile, lie. Go skinny dipping, early in the fall, when it’s not that cold yet.

There’s a cold drift of air coming from the half open door. October’s winds are hard to predict, ranging from warm to mildly cold. Tonight it’s pretty cold outside, but people are still out there, it’s a Friday anyway. People will be coming back sometime soon, they always do. The couch is really small, my neck hurts and my feet are hanging on the other side.

Take some time, make it fast, have it slow, hurry up. Go alone to a bar and try talking to a girl. It will probably end in nothing, but that’s ok, it happens all the time. Sing off tune, dance off beat, scream your lungs out, jump around. Go alone to a bar and don’t talk to anyone. Someone will approach you, it just works that way.

Fall in love again; it’s not that hard the second time.

Think about it. Get ready. Freak out. Puke. Think again. Not ready.

-"Hey Jim, what are you doing?"


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