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2112 018

eZine's profile picture
Published in 
2112
 · 22 Aug 2019

  

A friend in need is a pest.
-Fafhrd
ÜÜ ÜÜ
ÚÄÝÛÝ ÜßÜÜÞÞþ ÜÝß ÜÝß ÜßÜÜÞÞþ ÞÛÞÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ ÝÛÝ ÝÝ Þ ÞÞ ÞÞ ÝÝ Þ ÞÛÞ ³
³ ÝÛÝ Üþ ßÛ ßÛ Üþ ÞÛÞ Pointless? ³
³ ÝÛÝ ÜÝß ÞÞ ÞÞ ÜÝß ÞÛÞ ³
ÀÄÝÛÝ ÜÝÝÝÜÜÜÝÝÜÝÝÜ ÜÝÝÜ ÜÝÝÝÜÜÜÝÝ ÞÛÞÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
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


(\\\\
ÚÄÄÚ/)ÄÄ\ \\\\ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ ³\`\_/'//// TNH BBS. [2112] WHQ. NUP: Woodstock. 817.346.3370. ³
³ ³ \ / ³ SysOp: Mephistopheles CoSysOps: Delirium, Sputnik. ³
ÀÄÄÀÄÄ|___|ÄÄÙÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ

i hope you enjoyed it.
Fritz, the surprisingly happy guy :)

Damn, these things have been really depressing.
Mephistopheles, now rather morose.




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