A friend in need is a pest. -Fafhrd ÜÜ ÜÜ ŚÄŻŪŻ ÜßÜÜŽŽž ÜŻß ÜŻß ÜßÜÜŽŽž ŽŪŽÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄæ ³ ŻŪŻ ŻŻ Ž ŽŽ ŽŽ ŻŻ Ž ŽŪŽ ³ ³ ŻŪŻ Üž ßŪ ßŪ Üž ŽŪŽ Pointless? ³ ³ ŻŪŻ ÜŻß ŽŽ ŽŽ ÜŻß ŽŪŽ ³ ĄÄŻŪŻ ÜŻŻŻÜÜÜŻŻÜŻŻÜ ÜŻŻÜ ÜŻŻŻÜÜÜŻŻ ŽŪŽÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄŁ ßß ßß Volume I, File VIIIX [071295] Writer: Fritz *** I sat in a small booth in a dark corner of the club. The sound was fucked up, and all I could hear was the vague droning of the guitar and the thump of the bass. It was all so numbing to me that I guess I fell asleep. I dreamed of being stabbed by a large dark-clothed man. I felt powerless, then I woke up. I'm not sure how the dream made me feel, but when I awoke, I just sat there for the longest time, staring at the floor. At first I just looked at the dirty tiles. Soon however I noticed a cockroach walking in the open. I thought it strange that the insect would be walking in the center of a room, and I watched as foot after foot landed around it. With each footfall, the roach brushed with death. I waited for the one that would snuff out its life. Before long I left the club, in whose company I cannot remember. I went to a dingy little cafe, the only one to be found open so late, and had a greasy hamburger. I can't remeber tasting the food, or the watery soda. I just recall the pleasure of having something to eat. I was alone with my thoughts. Or I might as well have been, for my partner seemed reluctant to speak to me. I understood his silence though. My own thoughts annoyed me; swirling and spinning, my head ached with thoughts of pity and fear. I couldn't quite tell from whence this fear came. I just knew that something bad was going to happen. Or perhaps, I knew that it would not. Perhaps I thought that I might live, and never have anything happen. Whatever the cause, I was afraid. The waitress came by before long and asked me if I wanted a refill of soda. I said yes, but knew I wouldn't drink it. She must have said something else which I didn't hear, because when I noticed her leaving she was shaking her head and sort of rolling her eyes. Before it could worry me too much, I was lost in my thoughts again. I thought immediately of my old job. I remembered some of the great feelings I had had there. I remembered how it was around Christmas. The smell, the sounds of customers. I remember how the girl I had a crush on looked that day. I was really enjoying the memory when my companion spoke up, and brought me back to reality. "I've been wanting to talk to you," he said. I wasn't all that curious, but I figured that I should ask, to be polite or something. He looked at me for a moment, his eyebrow raised as he seemed to debate what he would say. "Kip, I think of you as a very close friend. I think, well, I've been talking to Jeremy and Sue, and we're worried about you. We think you should see someone. Someone who you can talk to, and who can help you." I thought about what he was saying and it almost made me angry. I felt something for a moment, but then realized what he was doing. I gave him a weak smile and took a drink of my soda. I knew that he would persist with this until I answered him. I don't even remember what I told him, it was the just the same spiel I gave to my parents when they brought the subject up. I could say it without any real thought, as though I were on autopilot. It was strange when I realized that I had been talking, and daydreaming at the same time. Couldn't he tell? I couldn't believe it that he bought the story. I looked at him for a moment; I must have been staring him straight in the eyes, yet I was not really focusing. I tend to do that a lot lately. I will catch myself staring or daydreaming, even when I am talking to someone. The other day it happened when I was driving. I didn't think there was a problem though. If they worried so much they could spend more time with me, too. I hardly ever see them except in school. It's summer now, and I never hear from Sue. I'll be damned if it feels like I have any friends at all. I'm sure they care though. ..damn, I was daydreaming again. We're riding back in his car. The trip takes a few hours, but I don't think he'll talk to me unless I start the conversation. I'm not going to, either. I want to figure some stuff out, and I know he would just belittle me. It really annoys me that my personal problems aren't bad enough to share with my friends. I wish I could meet a girl who wouldn't fuck me over and break my heart. I wish I wasn't so shy and scared of everything. But most of all, I wish that they would show me some support. They still think I'm crazy, no matter what I tell them. I am getting to the point that I don't bother any more. They always gave me a hard time about Michelle. They all told me what would happen. Every day, I heard a new joke or insult. I got so sick of it at times. Now they all seem really satisfied. And since I'm not willing to kiss their asses, I guess I'll have to do without friends. The fact is that she's all I think about anymore. I can almost bring myself to hate her, until I remember something about her. I start to recall all the things that I loved about her. I remember what made me think she was the one. I thought she was different. I want so badly to talk about her. Why won't anyone listen? It's not silly, no matter what they say. I never loved anyone before. She was my first love, my best friend, the ideal woman. How CAN I have any self respect left? I treated her like a queen, delighted that she would even condescend to spend time with me. When I was around her, I just couldn't help but feel happy. That was real, no matter what anyone tries to tell me. How can they understand, though? For them, it's easy. They meet people, they date, they make friends, they kiss, they live, love, sex, passion... Me? I am alone. If there is one fact I CAN be sure of, it's that. Here I am sitting in a car with one of my closest friends, yet I am as alone as I have ever been. I cannot share anything with him. I am closed off. He is, too. I sit there for a little longer, trying to remain deep in thought, but then for some reason, I say something. I asked him if he's seen Sue recently. He takes this as an invitation to lecture. I frown, and sink back into my seat. It pisses me off, because I know that there is nothing I can say to stop him. Part of my problem is that no one seems to respect me any more. That really makes it hard to talk to people. So, he talks and I think about flying. I hear occassional snippets, and respond with a "hmm.." or a "yeah, I hear ya'", but I am really thinking about soaring and wheeling in the inky darkness of the sky above me. It's not really even a dream of mine, just a sort of fancy that hits me. I guess he doesn't notice because he's driving and all. I don't remember when he stopped. The next day I sit in my room, reading a book. I hear a knock at my door, and quickly tuck the book under the pile of papers and CDs on my desk. "Yes," I call. The door opens and there is my mom. "Well, what do you want?" I would tell you more about that conversation or the one I fell into with my dad later on, but I refuse to talk about them. It taxes my mind to even think about dealing with them. I do a bunch of shit after that, not really worth mentioning. I just sit there; no energy or enthusiasm. I feel sort of excited when Mork and Mindy comes on. I smile when I get a letter from my friend Lori in Spokane. I probably feel glad or happy about several other things as well, but it isn't until the phone rings that night that I really feel a rush. For some reason, I know it is her. The things she has said, and the decisions I've made are forgotten as soon as I hear her voice. I suppose I should probably tell you what she said, but I know that that would be pointless. The conversation is not overly long, nothing in fact like the six hour talks that would consumed my free time in the past. She asks me "what's up", and though I detested the idea of talking to her about anything other than what had been said, I answered. "Nothing". If my whole fucking life isn't consumed by doing nothing. The gates are closed, heaven is empty I thought. Surely she will bring it up. I'm tired of seeming weak. I can't bring anything up. The word nothing came up a lot in the course of that phone call. "What are you up to?" "Nothing" "How's it going?" "Robert and I are going to see a movie tonight." ("I hate you" in a thought bubble above my head) "That's nice." "Uhm.. what else are you going to do?" "Nothing really." "Nothing. Nothing. You are nothing!" "What did you say?" "Nothing." I didn't imagine it. The word "nothing" could characterize her call. I came away feeling empty. I didn't know where our relationship stood. I didn't tell her finally how much I resented her. No, I said nothing. Then I got to sit in my room and think about how much I actually hated her, while she went to a movie with that bastard Jeff. Robert. It doesn't matter. They're all the same to me, as long as it's NOT me. I hate her. I sit alone with my discordant thoughts for quite a while. I hardly notice as afternoon becomes night. So much time passes, and soon it is quite late. I feel worse when I look at the clock, for I realized that most people in the world (or my time zone at least) are asleep. I feel even more alone then. Sleep seems like death. I need something to kill time. A movie I've seen a million times will serve that purpose well. The familiartity comforts me, as I watch these actors, who are more like brothers or friends than the real things have ever been. I guess two nights have passed in what I'm telling you, but I have to be honest and admit that I really don't know what the point is. I feel lots of stuff, but I can never figure it out. I will tell my computer. My parents paid thousands of dollars for it. The least it can do is listen to my problems. So I type for a while. It's a lovely morning. Before long the door swings open and my father informs me that it is in actuality a lovely afternoon. I figure it wouldn't be the time to discuss my feelings toward actuality. He wouldn't get it, and the discussion would probably piss him off somehow. I feel almost energetic. I think I'll get a weird haircut to make my parents angry. I think I forgot to make the appointment. I find out later that I did make the appointment, I just forgot to go. Damn, I guess. How can I live with a broken CD player? I don't have anything to do but listen to music. I guess I'll have to find a friend. No, I hate all my friends, or something to that effect. So, before long it was night again. I was sitting in my room, watching tv. I hate everything that is on tv, but what else is there to do? I think about what I'll say if she calls again. I sort of feel guilty for thinking about her at all. I know she's not thinking about me. Fuck her! Oh god, did the phone just ring? My dad is calling me! The call is for me! Oh joy! I pick up the receiver and hear a male voice. I almost curse audibly, but do not. Oh great. It's Jeremy, deigning to talk to me. I would have felt quite honored had I not been planning his death at that moment. So I answer his stupid question about college registration, and he hangs up. I guess it was less hassle to call me than the collge. Fuck him. I probably like him the least of all my friends. Wonder what it will be like when we're roommates? My life is boring. I'll stop inflicting it on you soon. I guess the last telling thing that happened was when I saw both her and Denise in town. I was really not in the mood to run into anyone, so of course I was destined to. I thought getting cleaned up, and going to the city to look in some bookstores would cheer me up. I ran into Denise at the gas station. She was so friendly and beautiful. I said hello and talked to her for a moment, conscious of every detail of her appearance. I loved her so much. She was in so many ways the perfect girl to me. It was this perfection that always threw me, I guess. She was the only really beautiful girl I had ever flirted with. Seriously flirted, that is. I wished I had asked her out so badly right then. Oh well, she leaves and I pay. Still, I can't stop thinking about her, and about Michelle. I would have asked her out long ago, if only Michelle hadn't seemed so attracted to me. I fell in love with her, and couldn't ask Denise out for fear of.. I don't really know why. I just couldn't ask her out. Now it was too late. I tried to put her out of mind though, I really did. It was just dumb luck I suppose, that I ran into Michelle and that fucking guy at the bookstore. She saw me first of course, and had to come say hi. I got to meet her friend and everything. Hot damn. She asked who I was with - fuck I hate her, smile and reply - "Oh, no one. I guess I'll leave you two alone" - turn and hear - "wait, do you want to have coffee with us or something?" - God, please.. just smite me down right now. Please! I've never asked you for anything before - "Uhm.. yeah, that sounds like fun." Can anyone find a better reason to go on than to wait and see what tommorrow will bring? I don't know. I hate to sound cliched and hate everyone, but what am I to do? I am trapped. There is no way to escape, and I have prescious little "character" as grandpa would say, to change my ways. It's too late to start over. Thanks to my foresight, I have arranged to go to the same school that all of these people are going. I will live in the same dorm. I will share the same bathrooms, and in one case, the same room. What are my options? They won't stop treating me the way they do, and I can't break away from them either. Michelle wants a "friend", and a friend I'll be, but I will hate her every moment I spend with her. I suppose I will get to escape my parents at least. I wonder what horribleness will replace the void they leave? I have turned to you my old friend, because I know you to be a good listener. Whenever I turn to people I wind up feeling worse, but when I talk to you, I end up with something tangible. In some ways, I wish real life could be more like the slick, cyberspace of the futurists. Wouldn't it be easier to exist in a virtual reality, where the body was irrelevent? How I dream. To soar over graphical landscapes, and interract soley with the mind. Love and friendship and morality and compassion have such radically different meanings there. All the constraints I feel would be gone. Ahh well. I have to do something now. I guess I'll leave the virtual fantasy to my kids.. what a laugh. May these fictional youngsters fare better than I. I guess that is an empty prayer, as my chances of finding a mate seem so slim. It would be more likely for me to achieve godhood and create them before I manage to do it the old-fashioned way. *** I LOVE EVERYONE I HAVE EVER MET (\\\\ ŚÄÄŚ/)ÄÄ\ \\\\ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄæ ³ ³\`\_/'//// TNH BBS. [2112] WHQ. NUP: Woodstock. 817.346.3370. ³ ³ ³ \ / ³ SysOp: Mephistopheles CoSysOps: Delirium, Sputnik. ³ ĄÄÄĄÄÄ|___|ÄÄŁÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄŁ i hope you enjoyed it. Fritz, the surprisingly happy guy :) Damn, these things have been really depressing. Mephistopheles, now rather morose.