Oh. Well. And speaking of which, today we sat behind an empty van at an abandoned Checker's because it looked fully functional until things added up.
Hi. I feel rigged teeth marks on the inside of my right cheek. My right knee doesn't necessarily hurt, but it's aching to remind me that it's there. I'm hearing a repeating video game soundtrack. I need to throw away my trash; I'm a guest.
Alright, well, I can say I made it to December 2012. I don't know what things are up-to-date about my whereabouts and past few months, but now is now. I'm waiting, in a neutral position, until tomorrow. Tomorrow I'll be setting out on a 25 hour long bus ride toward Pennsylvania. I was looking forward to it until right now, where I'm realizing that I'll be bored. Not just bored, but bored on top of bored on top of anxiousness. I'm trying to apply a metaphor, but I don't remember if spinning tops ever go back to a faster speed once they start wobbling. All I mean is that I keep thinking things are going to slow down in a way but then something puts it all back into motion. The metaphor wouldn't have worked either way.
The past five- I think- days have actually not counted. They're kind of blank, with few details that move plot forward. Even jokingly I regarded anything that happens now as a bonus featurette. I'd just gotten back from Chicago, to nothingness. Before I left for there, I said that I didn't see anything else happening after that week was over. It wasn't a depressed or melodramatic tone, but I actually couldn't imagine anything happening in the horizon. Aspirations and planned dates were kind of holograms or reflections on the water. Like the writing staff was absolutely stumped a week before the premiere. Huh.
I have a court date on January 9th. That was my reason for even using my returning ticket, kinda. It's such a poorly written plot device of a ticket. I don't drive but I have, in my pocket, in my wallet, a citation for a Hit and Run. That's funny. I was in the back seat when my pal hit the sign at the entrance of his neighborhood.. apartment complex. I'm already tired of the story but it's the one story that gets more and more ridiculous sounding as I tell it. It gets easier to put the pieces together and realize how incredibly worthless this ticket is. Well anyway, that's what sent me back to Georgia. I still haven't told my parents. I don't want to add to anyone's worry.
I came back to Atlanta, ignored someone trying to get change, and just hopped in the train to the bus for Marietta. My baggage wasn't too heavy yet. I sat down, in reverence, in Dunkin Donuts to calm down and vocalize my situation. My mom called, I guess. The significance there is that my plans seemed solid for a moment; I was going to try to sign up for classes back at the school and wait for all of this to blow over- or it was to get a job- both plans involved going back to Chicago. What happened was almost a repeat of what happened the last time I got off the bus, when I came back from Indiana. I didn't tell anybody, so nobody picked me up. I had my bookbag on and I carried my other two things; the one with the leather handle hurts after a while. I walked to the school.
There was no use in walking to the school. It was a waste of time. I think I ate one of my apples there, though. I sat there, somewhat exhausted, for a couple of hours just watching sort-of familiar faces doing general college things. I sort of watched one kid I kind of know talk about Jesus, interpretations of the bible, Satan, and swag. The kid sitting next to me was uploading concert videos; his desktop background was just a list of bands that would make anybody that I'm close friends with burst into laughter or growl from a stomach ache. I don't care either way, but it all set the mood.
On this first day, I just sat until I realized no one was going to come and get me. I couldn't stay where I was before the trip. Though running low on resources, I did find a place to sleep that night and the next night. The night after that, I ended up where I'm at now. My sister's friend's house. A little out of the way, meaning I can't get to my mom's care package that I arranged to pick up at the square, but it's fine and filled with books. I should be leaving any moment now to pick up my ticket for Pennsylvania. I thought sleep would be pretty last night but it only made things more amorphous. At least I know where I'm at and I'm probably sure I know what I have to do.
Well, at least one of us is fired from a job.
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