scenes
Around the time I filleted (filleyed, fillayed, fileted, fileyed, filayed?) my finger with The-Pocketknife-I've-Come-to-Identify-With-My-Fleeting-Sense-of-Youth trying to carve a hole in the bottom of a fruit-punch-bottle-stuffed-with-dryer-sheets so I could smoke within the confines of my own (university-owned) bathroom with the shower running and a damp towel covering The-Crack-of-the-Door-over-the-Floor I was reminded for the I-dont-know-what'h time that this is not remotely anywhere near the expectations I remember having for My-Life-up-to-This-Point.
When I woke up for the 3rd time this week only to recall having spent gross amounts of money on gross quantities of gross quality food after smoking gross amounts of grass the night before and had to walk back to my dorm in the clothes I'd worn the night before (and more than probably the night before that as well) smoking a perfectly timed cigarette (in that it took the entire length of the walk to smoke, deservingly extinguished only at the moment before rounding that final turn up the stairs and to the doorway), I wondered what kind of fulfillment I was getting from leading life in this manner, and promptly arrived at the conclusion that if I had to ask the question in the first place, probably not much.
After about 5 minutes of stalling before leaving the room, remembering that I also needed an extra pencil (I didn't), that it was probably too cold for shorts (it wasn't), that I might be better off wearing sandals instead (like it mattered much in the first place), I finally leave with a bag full of supplies and books that are of surprisingly little use on my way to get food from the cafeteria and come right back to the dorm to eat it.
About 5 hours after waking up 3 hours after I had initially planned I finally take the hour long shower I was supposed to have taken less than a half hour after eating breakfast (2 hours later than what would marginally be described as lunch). With less than 3 hours worth of prime October weekend light left I wonder how I let another one get away, and vehemently swear to myself that tomorrow will be different.
Somebody said they saw me swinging the world by the tail, bouncing over a white cloud, killing the blues.