“But you can’t just leave your family, Chris!”
“I can when they aren’t my family anymore, Evan!”
There was bite on the last word. He said it with such a scathing remorse, as if he was disgusted by the very nature of the word, as well as the person it represented.
“Look, you’re my brother....I’m, I’m your brother….Chris we’re brothers, damnit!”
“It’s just…it’s just not working anymore, ok? I have the right to choose, and I’m choosing not to be your brother anymore.”
Chris was right. Under the new laws, any family member could break away, could just up and leave, and be legally considered a member of another family. Emotions be damned, consequences expected, thousands of people were already walking out on their families. It was as if it was the season, or something. He had been waiting, Evan knew. Chris had been waiting for a way out of living with Evan, of being around Evan. Well, Chris provided the answer. Chris provided the answer for the dilemma for not wanting to live with him.
Chris just left.
Chris took Evan's brother with him. His best friend was gone.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Time thief
On a cozy, secluded hill in North Carolina sits a pine tree, tall and majestic. The sun beats down upon it's needles, baking them and arousing their sweet, intoxicating aroma. Gather a hundred of them together and you'd swear you were in your grandmother's kitchen on pie day. Let your eyes follow down from the needles, over the pine cones and through the jagged roadways of uneven bark and sap. Follow the trunk as it widens toward the nurturing earth, and find a young man sitting among the roots. His sandy-golden locks flutter to and fro, seemingly dancing with the coastal wind. It's warm this time of the year, but not so strong as to disturb and peaceful sit atop the hill.
Notice the young man long enough, and you will catch him glancing at his watch, each time with a more concerned look upon his bronzed face. He's doing so in the manner of a man waiting on his date for the evening, worried that they'll miss the show or their dinner reservations. The young man is not worried about the cause of the loss of time, but rather the fact that it is being lost at all. Yet, he remains, as calmly as he can, against the trunk of the tree.
The heavy silence of the hill is broken with a crisp, shrill shriek. Someone is in trouble, and the young man has lept to his feet and is 3 yards away before you have even processed the sound. No, no it couldn't have been a troubled shriek, because now there is laughter. It was one of shock, yet pleasant surprise. The young man has noticed this as well, as his pace has slowed, and a relieved smile has spread across his lips.
His son is bounding up the hill, trying to run away from the evil monster, Mommy. Their playful sounds now light up the hill, and the air is alive with the energy of love. Pure, unadulterated, family love.
The time thief was a line at the port-a-potty down the hill, near the parking lot. The young family had escaped the routine of the suburbs for the day for some peace and quiet. Yet, the call of the nature must be answered, just not always in nature.
And so there they romped. Around and around the great pine they played, joyously chasing each other with no clear intent other than to exhaust themselves. Soon, it would be time for a nap. But now ... now was the time.... just the time.
Notice the young man long enough, and you will catch him glancing at his watch, each time with a more concerned look upon his bronzed face. He's doing so in the manner of a man waiting on his date for the evening, worried that they'll miss the show or their dinner reservations. The young man is not worried about the cause of the loss of time, but rather the fact that it is being lost at all. Yet, he remains, as calmly as he can, against the trunk of the tree.
The heavy silence of the hill is broken with a crisp, shrill shriek. Someone is in trouble, and the young man has lept to his feet and is 3 yards away before you have even processed the sound. No, no it couldn't have been a troubled shriek, because now there is laughter. It was one of shock, yet pleasant surprise. The young man has noticed this as well, as his pace has slowed, and a relieved smile has spread across his lips.
His son is bounding up the hill, trying to run away from the evil monster, Mommy. Their playful sounds now light up the hill, and the air is alive with the energy of love. Pure, unadulterated, family love.
The time thief was a line at the port-a-potty down the hill, near the parking lot. The young family had escaped the routine of the suburbs for the day for some peace and quiet. Yet, the call of the nature must be answered, just not always in nature.
And so there they romped. Around and around the great pine they played, joyously chasing each other with no clear intent other than to exhaust themselves. Soon, it would be time for a nap. But now ... now was the time.... just the time.
Basement Masquerade.
Unknown to her, there Dale sat, all alone, in the basement of his parent's house. A dying flashlight laid strewn carelessly to his right on the cold, hard concrete floor. His shoes had been tossed about in front of his position, and his bare feet brushed almost casually amongst the dirt and dead bugs. Dale's disheveled hair gave away his prior position: head in hands, light tears streaming down his face, trying to rub the "sissiness" out of his eyes.
His father would be so proud.
Lauren had not come over that night with the intention of breaking his heart. However with her swift and embarrasses departure, so went his feelings for her, and for love in general. The caller ID does not lie, and when that phone sounded, so crisp and truthful in the dark of the basement, the pain of their past came rushing back to the present. His name popped up. He was not supposed to be listed in the contacts list in the fist place. When Dale answered soundlessly, Lauren's "ex"-boyfriend asked when she was coming over - expecting to hear his love affair's voice on the other end.
Instead what he got was a loud explosion of heart break and anger, followed by the sound of a breaking phone - and heart.
Lauren had nothing to say. She swiftly scurried to the exit as gracefully as she could, almost tripping on her dress from Mardi Gras Masquerade. They had been in the basement on a scavenger hunt after he party.
Well, they certainly didn't find what they were looking for.
His father would be so proud.
Lauren had not come over that night with the intention of breaking his heart. However with her swift and embarrasses departure, so went his feelings for her, and for love in general. The caller ID does not lie, and when that phone sounded, so crisp and truthful in the dark of the basement, the pain of their past came rushing back to the present. His name popped up. He was not supposed to be listed in the contacts list in the fist place. When Dale answered soundlessly, Lauren's "ex"-boyfriend asked when she was coming over - expecting to hear his love affair's voice on the other end.
Instead what he got was a loud explosion of heart break and anger, followed by the sound of a breaking phone - and heart.
Lauren had nothing to say. She swiftly scurried to the exit as gracefully as she could, almost tripping on her dress from Mardi Gras Masquerade. They had been in the basement on a scavenger hunt after he party.
Well, they certainly didn't find what they were looking for.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Things I might tweet about
Just for the giggles of it:
No sleep
All nighters
coffee
caffeine
driving
cops
po-pos
all other variations forthwith
needing to pee because of the coffee
this sociology test
the play trifiles
my incompetent teacher
grades
spring break
turning 21
haircut(s)
ultimate frisbee
layouts
the rain
the cold
the wind
weather in general
dogs?
i don't know why, but dogs, apparently
aren't they cute?
#winning, and all variations of it
highlighters
#govdocs
#mitchmem
john carroll in DC, living it up, while we are not
screw him
not really
but kinda
being inappropriate
the fact that this girl keeps catching my eye in the union
i mean c'mon it's only 7 30 and you're the only one in here...my b
dave matthews
must see him live
mumford and sons, avett brothers, mgmt
music festivals and how i want to go
fratting hard, even though I don't have any letters
it's a paradox really
the fact that this test is COMMUNISM, jason reed
this guy's just chewing away on his chicken biscuit, RUBBING it in my face that my block plan (excuse me, claire's block plan) doesn't start until 4
this is actually turning out kind of humerous
why did I just snap my fingers like that? i'm not dipping an imaginary can
or a real one for that matter*
how do computers work?
no, seriously.
the braves' first pitch is 12:05 pm, march 31, against the nationals.
baseball
or, as pedro would say: beisbol.
with an accent, while ya judging
man i'm tired
yawn
night.
No sleep
All nighters
coffee
caffeine
driving
cops
po-pos
all other variations forthwith
needing to pee because of the coffee
this sociology test
the play trifiles
my incompetent teacher
grades
spring break
turning 21
haircut(s)
ultimate frisbee
layouts
the rain
the cold
the wind
weather in general
dogs?
i don't know why, but dogs, apparently
aren't they cute?
#winning, and all variations of it
highlighters
#govdocs
#mitchmem
john carroll in DC, living it up, while we are not
screw him
not really
but kinda
being inappropriate
the fact that this girl keeps catching my eye in the union
i mean c'mon it's only 7 30 and you're the only one in here...my b
dave matthews
must see him live
mumford and sons, avett brothers, mgmt
music festivals and how i want to go
fratting hard, even though I don't have any letters
it's a paradox really
the fact that this test is COMMUNISM, jason reed
this guy's just chewing away on his chicken biscuit, RUBBING it in my face that my block plan (excuse me, claire's block plan) doesn't start until 4
this is actually turning out kind of humerous
why did I just snap my fingers like that? i'm not dipping an imaginary can
or a real one for that matter*
how do computers work?
no, seriously.
the braves' first pitch is 12:05 pm, march 31, against the nationals.
baseball
or, as pedro would say: beisbol.
with an accent, while ya judging
man i'm tired
yawn
night.
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