Chronicle Number One Pt 2.

Continued from.

Tolerance is one of my favorite words. We should be tolerant of everyone. We should be willing to accept differences that the people around us have. It was one of the major things I thought  I could learn at college.

Independence isn’t one of my favorite words but it was another thing I had to learn. Just like like responsibility, maturity, and initiative.

Those last three words are some of my father’s most used words. He made sure to include them as I packed away my laptop for college.  He mentioned them again on the car ride there. He told me not to waste my potential.

My mother was sad that I had to go. She told me to call every week as we got into my Dad’s van. My brother never has much to say. He told me that he was used to being alone so I shouldn’t worry about him. I never understood what he meant by that until this year.

When we arrived at the College of New Jersey, the feelings of apprehension and excitement were twisting their way through my body. I had never visited the college dorms. I didn’t even walk around the campus before orientation. I had picked the college without knowing much about it other than the name.  The opportunity to tell people that I’m going to THE College of New Jersey was a major factor in my college decision. My father gave his approval saying it was a good school.

As our car drove on its way to my dorm, I realized how alluring the college campus was. I had read some e-mails about how there was construction going on. I didn’t care how the campus looked when I picked it, however once I had seen the campus with my own eyes, apprehension sailed away. The trees and the lakes put my body at ease.

It didn’t last long.

Once we parked the car and started unloading my stuff, I noticed several students walking around. I then remembered the faces of change. I was going to have to face them very soon.

After going through the process of obtaining my key and being introduced to the community advisers, I was sent on my way. I looked down a hall to faces I would never forget.

I never forget a face. I rarely forget names. Once I’ve seen a person once, they’re carved into my brain. Each person I meet is caught in my web forever, regardless of how I feel about them later on. Unlike a spider, my webs are indestructible. No matter how much someone tries to cut themselves out, I’ll never forget them or the memories that come with them. To me each of my friendships are eternal. Each time I see a person I know, my memories of them are fresh. It’s like they were never gone.  It’s part of the reason sometimes I forget to say hi to people. I feel as though I’ve just seen them.

The faces I saw that day were varied. Some were average. Others were shaped weirdly. Some were better looking than others.  Some I may never want to see again. Others I wish I had spent more time with because I’ll never see them again.

Two of these faces would become some of the best friends I would ever have.

I walked down the hallway giving out hellos and what’s ups like they were on sale. I entered my room and noticed my roommate had been there already. I had never seen a picture of my roommate. I just knew that his name was [NAME OF ROOMMATE REDACTED].

I’ve mentioned before that I’m not a normal teenager. I don’t consider myself a weirdo. I just know that my opinion differs from a lot of people. There’s only so many personalities that I’m compatible with. My friends are made up by most of them, but they don’t live with me. The only people I had lived with my entire life were my parents. I had been to sleep overs, but never had I been over more than a few days.

Lucky for me, [NAME OF ROOMMATE REDACTED] turned out to one of the coolest guys I had ever met  We got a long fine in the coming weeks. Though the first time we spoke I was very paranoid. I thought he was trying to steal my money. He offered to go buy me an Ethernet cable when I told him I had forgotten. I decided to go with him instead of handing over my money.

When we got back from there, I met the rest of the guys in my suite, an asian, a guytalian , an [NAME OF MYSTERIOUS SUITEMATE REDACTED], and something else.

Things were looking up. They were all pretty cool guys barring one. I thought about how I could get used to living with these guys.

Then the first weekend came. And with weekends came, alcohol. I thought about how I’d learn tolerance. I contemplated going to a college party with the rest of them.

I didn’t go. But I anticipated their return. I was in college to learn tolerance after all.

The only thing I learned however is that sometimes tolerance just isn’t possible.



Chronicle Number One.

As I look forward to the future of my college career, I feel the need to also look back. I need to see how I ended up where I am today. I’m heading into my third year of college.  I’m majoring in journalism. I’ve just worked at a job that required manual labor, my first job.

Two years ago, I was a different man. I was just coming out of high school. I thought the good times were coming to an end. I’d spend my summer nights at my friend’s house. An elite crew of niggas that would do almost anything to fly away from boredom. The nights would disappear as we spent time trying to find games to play. Video games were one of our favorite ways of escaping. Sometimes the games would take hours to find and get to work on everyone’s computer.  Time meant nothing to us. We could just come back for the next night. We could just head down to Shoprite and buy ice cream. We could head to the movies. We could do anything.

But of course time reared its ugly deformed unwanted face when August came. Once it became August, I knew that I’d be gone. The person I was would have to go. Once August came, the endless days and nights melted away. Each day became precious time. I knew there was nothing I could do. There was nothing any of us could do. Time, which had once been a complete non-factor, was now the greatest enemy of all. It ended our status quo and threw us into our destined roles.

I knew that I’d never get to be as carefree as I was that summer. I knew that I’d have to adapt to things. I would have to make new friends at college.  I never checked my college e-mail until August. I opened it and saw an e-mail from a boy called [NAME OF BOY REDACTED]. He introduced himself and said he was glad to be a part of our suite.

I looked him up on Facebook. College now seemed so much more real. It now had a face. I looked up the other boys he had forwarded the e-mail too. They were now the face of change. I was very apprehensive of college. I didn’t even know who my roommate was going to be.

All I knew about college was the parties. The immense amount of drinking. Drugs were going to be everywhere. Drunk people would be commonplace. And I’d have to accept them.

I’d spent the majority of my life away from that scene. I never wanted to see drunk people. Let alone have my friends drink in front of me. You see before college started, I had never had friends who drank alcohol around me. If my friends did drink, I never knew of it.

I harbor a deep hatred for the drinking of alcohol. It’s one of those particular things that shape who I am. Not many people empathize with it.

Something I had tried to avoid for all of my life was now going to everywhere at college. College was not looking too good to me.

It was something I had to face. I had made the decision to go to the College of New Jersey. Backing out was not an option. I wouldn’t have taken it any other way. As move in day approached, I tried to look for the positives. I knew that my avoidance of alcohol wasn’t a normal thing for a teenager to have.

I thought that maybe once I went to college I could maybe learn to tolerate it. I knew that in adult life, it would be everywhere. I would have to learn to accept it. College would be the first step.

College was the last gate between me and the “real” world. I threw away some of my childish fear as I packed away my things. I accepted friend requests from people who were going to live on my floor.

I prepared myself mentally for the next chapter of my life.  Nothing could break who I was.

Unfortunately my new-found confidence in college, would be shattered shortly after I arrived there.

Part two.

The Boondocks.

The Boondocks is a television show on Adult Swim. I remember watching the premiere of the show. It was very different than other Adult Swim shows. The show’s humor was based on race. The word, “nigga” and its deriatives were used often. The main characters were black. It wasn’t just complete insanity for laughs like Sealab 2021 or Aqua Teen Hunger Force. It wasn’t a part of their anime line-up. It felt like a show for adults and not stoned out college students.

The show was adapted from a comic which I had read all the time. The comic was great and I expected the show to be even better. There are limits to what can be done with a daily comic strip.

The main character, Huey translated perfectly to the television screen. But later on the focus left Huey and moved onto his brother and his grandfather. I enjoy both of them, but I always thought the show was best when Huey was at the center of the plot.

Take a look at the first season.

The first season of the Boondocks was filled with episodes covering various topics in black culture. One episode tackled how two young black children adapted to moving into a white suburb town. The next one brought forth an idea that perhaps not all black criminals are persecuted by the government. The show was not without its jokes, but it didn’t insult my intelligence most of the time.

But for an unknown reason after this season, the messages began to disappear a bit. In the first season finale, Huey Freeman is attempting to free a wrongly accused friend from the death penalty.

In the third season finale, Huey, now labeled a domestic terrorist, must team up with a parody of Jack Bauer who kicks people in the balls and save the town.

The third season is riddled with these episodes that are kinda funny but there’s not much behind them. There’s more parody. There’s more action. I didn’t hate it but I thought it never connected with me the same way the first season did. It disappointed me very much as it was being hyped to be the last season.  To think the show would end with a 24 parody saddened me very much.

The animation was better, but it just didn’t have that same emotional involvement or at least a balance between the wackiness and serious.

One season one episode, I’ll note here is Wingmen. Huey and Riley head back to their hometown. Huey meets an old friend who is angry at him for leaving. The way it’s done is very nice. The episode was not without its jokes, but there was a grounding element to it. The characters felt human and not just cartoons.

I feel as though with each subsequent season, they lost that grounding element and went straight for the wackiness. I wish they’d find that balance again. I think the Boondocks is one of the best shows, Adult Swim has ever shown. If they reached their full potential, the Boondocks would be the best.

Why do some people upload borderline pornographic pictures to facebook?

I have looked through each and every single one of my Facebook friend’s albums.  I’ve seen several pictures so racy that I wouldn’t let my little nephews and nieces look at them.

Now I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with taking pictures of yourself. But there comes a point where you’re no longer just uploading profile pictures and you’re just posting headshots from your recent porn audition.

There’s nothing wrong with looking for compliments. We all know what a person really wants when they post that status about how they recently got a job. They want the status to be liked. They want a comment congratulating them.

There’s always losers who need self assurance, But this goes beyond that.

I know some people have such low self esteem so they feel the need to upload pictures of themselves so the strangers they’ve added will compliment them.

But then there are people just posting pictures of them practically naked. They’re basically showing off everything. And when I say everything I mean EVERYTHING. I once saw a vulva. Or what I think was a vulva.

Sometimes they’re with their significant other and it’s getting a bit crazy. I know this one girl who posted pictures of her day off with her boyfriend and it just looked like the intro to a pornographic movie. Each picture they just got closer and closer, her shirt came off. The last pic might as well have had a caption of ” Catch the rest of the Assction at”

Do these people think we want to see them in these positions?

It’s not like they take requests. I’ve left a few in my day and I never get any responses.

So what is the point? Just plain old Narcissism or exhibitionism?

Also who is taking all of these pictures? Because sometimes the shots are so dynamic, there’s no way the person could have done it by themselves. How do you go about talking to a friend about this?

“Alright, Teddy. Come over tomorrow. We’re taking facebook pictures. Don’t forget the baby oil. We’re going to need to soak back in that stuff so it gleams perfectly in the sunlight.”

Now some people may say I shouldn’t be going through people’s facebook pictures.

Those people are probably the same ones taking these pictures.

What happens to my stuff when I’m dead?

I guess I’m supposed to put in my will, but I feel like I have a lot of stuff that nobody’s going to want to inherit anyway.

Like the A I got on a spelling test in third grade! Nobody other than me cares about that thing. So once I’m dead, somebody is just going to throw it in the garbage and it goes down to the dump?

That’s depressing. I worked very hard on that A. I had to spell tomorrow on that test! I know people who can’t even spell it now.

What about my clothes? It’d seem very silly for a non-straight edge descendant of mine to  receive my straight edge shirts. Would they just donate it to a straight edge charity?

I don’t like the idea of my stuff going to charity. I worked pretty hard to get some of this stuff like my Inception replica spinning top! I had to outbid someone on ebay.

And my action figures! I don’t think kids even play with toys anymore. Would they just be melted down and turned into something else? What happens to these items? Will they go on a long journey across the country from city to city?

Will they be around centuries from now when nothing I ever did matters any more? Just look outside and see all the cars driving around. What’s going to happen to all of them?

I guess it really doesn’t matter because I’ll be dead.  But it’s fun to think that in the year 3000, a little kid could wear a shirt made from something that I wore.

Maybe I could be buried with all my stuff like a pharaoh.

Or maybe I could just not die.

I like that one.

There’s No One Good Enough to Be Alone.

I’ve been watching people all my life go through “relationships”. It always ends up being a waste of time.

Do you know how many of my friends’ girlfriends, I’ve befriended?

Not many because they’re all just clocks ticking away.

They’ll be gone soon enough. Then they’ll have to stop being your friend because you’re their ex’s friend.

All that effort in making a new friend and it just goes kaput!

Now I’ve never been in a relationship, but  I’ve come up with a big conclusion.

People are afraid of being alone. People want someone there to listen to them. They want someone there to feed them mayonnaise and play classic rock.

Why can’t anyone be alone? Is there no person good enough to be happy by his or herself?

People have friends but that doesn’t seem to be enough. Many believe they want and/or need  that special someone in their life.

The idea of a romantic partner is shoved down the throats of children from about a very young age. The prince has to save the princess and they live happily ever after.

I have never seen a romance film end with the main character deciding he’d rather be by himself. He’s either trapped between two girls and makes a choice or he’s got one girl he fixated on. (or He poisons himself before she wakes up from her sleep)

This idea has ruined lives and driven many adolescents to bad decisions. Do you know how many people I know went to a certain college because their precious irreplaceable romantic partner would be nearby?

People in relationships don’t bother me.

Okay actually they do. But that’s not a discussion for a today.

I just find it bizarre that nobody can go through life without desiring a romantic partner.

Of course there is that sex thing, but that’s really a small factor.

Bizarro De Bizarro

Bloom. Bloom. Bloom. If you’ve ever stopped and listened in the middle of spring, you could hear the sound of a flower blossoming. Many don’t believe the sound exists. Those people cannot enjoy the simple things in life.

Children can enjoy the mundane things about life. If you leave a child alone with some cardboard, you could discover many different things when you return. Perhaps the child will have made the cardboard into a hat or a house depending on how much you left. Some children are not very creative and would just chew on the cardboard.

But an adult? They would just see garbage or nothing at all. This isn’t the case with all, but it’s what to be expected of adults. An adult is a not allowed to wear cardboard on their head. They’re not supposed to spend their day climbing trees and getting dirty. An adult is expected to pay the bills, get married, have children, and aid society. Where there was once imagination is now pragmatism. This is not always the case with every person.

But for those who lose their imagination when does it happen? When does a person lose their sense of adventure? Why does the imagination seem to die in some people as they edge closer towards their death? You would think with the inevitability of death, that people would want to do as much as possible. They would want to their life to be flexible. They would want to be free,.

But an adult is not free. They are tethered by bills. They are tethered by debts. They are tethered to obligations and responsibility. A ten year old can spend their day eating Doritos and watching cartoons with friends. A twenty year old should spend their day working for money and planning for the future. Adults who aren’t tethered are seen as bizarre. Adults who can hear the sound of flowers blossoming are few in numbers. If you asked a child to listen for the sound, they would try. If you asked an adult, they would say stop wasting my time.

Time. Once you truly understand, it becomes your worst enemy. You can never have enough of it. Your time in school will come to an end. Your time with your friends will come to an end. Your time on this planet will come to an end. In a mere two hundred years, you and  your friends will be forgotten.  Unless you have power.

Every memory you have is almost pointless. Once your brain slowly deteriorates, it almost doesn’t matter anymore how much you enjoyed that time you and your friends went to Six Flags. It almost doesn’t matter that time you almost drowned and shouted your friend’s name. It’s almost meaningless. It’s only completely meaningless once you’re dead.

Some people are already dead. They walk around as husks of meat. Worried about all their problems and never sit down to listen to the flowers blossom. They spend their lives obsessed with time. How much time it takes to get to and from work. How much time it will take them to pay off their student loans. How much time do they have left.

The sound of flowers blossoming isn’t very loud. It’s easy to imagine why nobody ever hears it.