ohbijou – new years
Month: May 2010
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dialogue #8
me: othniel, why don’t you keep a journal?
othniel: because i’m not GAY.
me: i keep a journal…
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shameless.
half day today stretched on forever. i kept on looking at the clock and the minute hand was moving painfully slowly in each of my four classrooms.
english, philosophy, theory of knowledge and biology past by in a slow-motion blur of doodles, pen fights and incessant jests at my constant absences. thankfully, i managed to reconcile with most of my teachers, so the school day wasn’t a complete waste.made my way to western tech to meet thadea and nicky after that. their school day ends conveniently early, so i only had to wait a little while before catching them as they began to walk away from the school.
thadea told me she was bringing nicky with her to a funeral she was going to today, so we headed to nicky’s house in hopes of finding something mildly appropriate for him to wear. this turned out to be much more difficult than i had originally thought. he has no formal clothes and his pants are ugly, so we decided that he would wear my jeans.
he put on my pants, which miraculously fit, so we proceeded to raid his father’s closet in hopes of finding a nice shirt; unfortunately, his father’s wardrobe wasn’t much better. the best shirt we could find made him look like a pirate, which was fine by us, so, you know, we kept it.
trekked our way to thadea’s house where we would switch pants (i refused to be seen on the subway in nicky’s jeans).
as i tried on various pairs of pants (snake skin skinnies included) at thadea’s house, i accidentally stepped on a tube of blue acrylic paint she had left open on the floor and soon blue was everywhere; the floor, on articles of clothing, on her disgusting pair of crocs; everywhere.
it is a strange kind of friendship when you are unafraid to be seen unclothed in front of each other and this is the kind of friendship we had.
i was not wearing pants, thadea was not wearing pants (for reasons i cannot remember) and nicky was just sitting there watching. our hands were covered in the paint so we were too afraid to touch anything (save for tissue paper) to put clothes on and it was in this half-naked state that we did our best to clean up the blue paint (which proved to be a difficult and daunting task).
all three of us; shameless.
we kept breaking into laughter about how absurd the entire situation was. always; we can’t help but be ridiculous. it’s what we’re made of.
after cleaning up the paint, a nice shower and finding a pair of pants to wear, i headed downstairs and found the other two in the kitchen and we consumed mangoes (the best fruit in the world).
later on, after the two made their way to the funeral, i met up with elaha and we went shopping (i bought two shirts), had coffee and (she) lowered the self-esteem of various passers-by.
good day.
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“Germaine was a whore all the way through, even down to her good heart, her whore’s heart which is not really a good heart but a lazy one, an indifferent, flaccid heart that can be touched for a moment, a heart without reference to any fixed point within, a big, flaccid whore’s heart that can detach itself for a moment from its true center.”
– ‘Tropic of Cancer’ by Henry Miller
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dan black (ft. kid cudi) – symphonies
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snagged this nifty blazer at black market this afternoon.
i think i’m going to bring it with me to england.
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first impressions.
so i was waiting for a couple of friends outside their school today when i was approached by, for lack of a better term, a gangster; with the baggy clothes, the swagger and everything. this guy was full-fledged frightening to someone like me. you have to understand, someone as feeble as myself gets intimidated pretty easily.
so my eyes darted back to my copy of plato’s republic to avoid making eye contact, but i could hear his footsteps getting closer and closer. i thought he was going to start a scene, maybe even rough me up a bit, and i was in the process of mentally preparing myself when he leaned over beside me and placed a dirty blue cloth on the ledge where i was sitting.
“i’ll be right back,” he said before darting off.
at first i was, like, ‘wtf?’ but then i turned to look at the random blue cloth he’d left behind and noticed that laying on top of it was a tiny baby bird.
when he came back, he explained to me how he’d found it laying helplessly on the sidewalk and couldn’t bear to leave it alone like that.
“imagine if it got stepped on,” he’d said to me, “it would be devastating.”
and then my heart melted and i felt all fuzzy inside. it was such a strange sight to see this huge guy huddled over a tiny bird, caressing it gently while looking into it’s eyes. he told me he didn’t know what to do with it, but he’d make sure it was alright. he said he’d even take it home and care for it if he had to (although he didn’t have any idea what baby birds eat).
it was kind of trippy. and he kept referring to it as a ‘nigga,’ which made me laugh.
“if it was grown up, i wouldn’t give a fuck,” he explained, “but nigga’s just a baby.”
the whole situation made me re-evaluate my first impressions of people and how i judge them. it gave me something to think about. this big, seemingly scary guy proved to have a heart of gold (at least when it came to wounded baby birds).
it was like something pulled straight out of a movie.
and it definitely made my day.
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so this is what children used to watch…
(Source: https://www.youtube.com/)
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IGGY.
i am ecstatic. ecstatic and excited.
i have something to look forward to this summer; i’ve once again been accepted into IGGY’s (the international gateway for gifted youth) summer program at warwick university, which means i’m heading for england this coming august.
last year was amazing and i am so jazzed about meeting brand new people, reuniting with old friends and just being in england again. i am fervently intent on forming beautiful new memories to store away and revisit to make me smile.
this time, i’ll remember to bring an outlet adapter so that i’ll actually be able to charge my camera and take tons and tons of photos.
also, this time i’m a junior mentor for performance and myth; i’m looking forward to bossing all the little kiddies around. benevolent dictator, anyone?
hopefully i can stay at a friend’s place for an extra week after the program’s over. should i book my trip for an extra week just in case, or would that be counting eggs before they hatch? it would suck to be stranded in england with nowhere to go for an entire week.
shucks, who am i kidding?
i’d love it.
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i watched this movie yesterday and genuinely loved it. it’s probably one of the best movies i’ve seen all year (the trailer definitely didn’t do it justice).
unfortunately, i watched it online and the audio was off during arguably the best scene, so i guess i’ll have to re-watch it in theaters (what a shame).
hit-girl was by far my favourite character. she was kick-ass. i kind of wish my parents trained me so i could be an eleven-year-old assassin boy wonder. i mean, how fun would that be?
and her rescue scene was by far my favourite in the whole film. the lighting, the cinematography, the pacing, the music; it was executed perfectly. it got everything right and it made me feel…i don’t know how it made me feel. epic? i can’t really think of any other word. vindicated? satisfied? uplifted? it was a prime example of how a film can strike all the right emotional chords. it was one of the most brilliant moments in film i have ever seen.
i don’t know, but i got riled up and there was justice in it. that one scene was wonderful, brutal, sad; beautiful.
if ever i have a child, i’m training it to be a highly lethal assassin.
