Words by Tim Girard

Chapter 19

2010-06-27T14:41:00.000-04:00

Chapter 19

Needless to say, the party ended after that. The rest of the night was a blur of hysterics, flashing lights and questions. I was pretty drunk and exhausted, both physically and emotionally, so I wasn’t really coherent for most of it. I don’t even remember going to bed.

At some point I must have actually fallen asleep, because I had a dream. I’m lying in my bed facing the door. It slowly opens and then my best friend steps into the doorway with a smirk on his face as he leans to his right against the frame and crosses his arms. Then this girl with blonde hair comes up behind him and puts her right hand on his right shoulder and her left hand around him on his stomach. He’s pretty tall, so his left shoulder is blocking most of her face so I can only see above her nose. That was enough though; her eyes captivated me. They were kind yet at the same time, aggressive. They were giving, yet selfish. Honest yet deceitful, comforting yet deviant. I could tell by her eyes that she was smiling. My attention gets drawn back to my best friend as he moves to pick something up off of my desk and holds it up for me to see. It is one of my favorite vampire books. He and the girl look at each other for a moment, then they both look back at me. He tosses the book towards me and it lands on the floor, right beside my bed.

When the book hits the floor, I wake up. As the dream wears off, the memory of what happened that night sinks back in and the reality of it hits me hard. I begin to sob and I don’t stop until I fall asleep. Maybe I didn’t even stop then.

Chapter 18

2010-04-14T02:03:00.002-04:00

Chapter 18

I decided to throw a party. Not that I felt like celebrating or anything, but it was time. There had been a lot of sadness, so it was time for some fun. I guess it was also for my friends. They had been there for me, and we hadn’t had one since before. I guess I also wanted to have a party to prove to everyone that I was ok. Everyone was really worried about me and at the time, I didn’t pay much attention. I wanted to show them that even though I wasn’t “back to the way I was”, I was at least “moving forward”.

In order to get in the spirit of the party, I started drinking…straight vodka…from the bottle. Ok, I admit, it was actually more “drink ‘til I don’t feel feelings”, than “let’s party”, but hey, cut me some slack.

When people would show up, they would try their best to act normal around me, which I did appreciate, so I returned the favor by changing the subject to something less serious whenever they asked “how I was doing”. Was I avoiding the issue? Maybe, but it was a party and I wanted everyone to have a good time. After a while, I tried to stay in the background so people could just let loose and have a good time. I still had my trusty bottle of Point Judith Vodka though. At the time I didn’t realize how it was gradually bringing me down. It wasn’t making me super depressed or anything, just alienated. I was looking around at all the people having fun and wondering why I couldn’t have fun. Then my best friend found me.

“Hey, there you are! I’ve been lookin’ for ya.”

“Oh I’m just takin’ a breather.” I say straightening up so he won’t be concerned about me. “What’s up?”

“First off, don’t you think you’ve had enough of that?”

“I’m just nursing it don’t worry, it wasn’t full when I started.”

“All right,” he says, not quite convinced, but not wanting to be pushy. “The other thing is that I think you should come dance.”

“Oh really?”

“Look, I know you obviously didn’t throw this party to celebrate, and no one here expects you to put on a show, or even lie and tell them that you’re ok. I mean it is a little weird, throwing a party this soon after, but what were we going to do, not show up?”

“So what, you’re all here out of pity?”

“No, not pity. Out of support. We all feel like, if this is what you want, if this will make you feel better, we’re here for you. At the same time, we don’t want you to feel neglected, like we’re just here for the party. We want you to have fun with us. For your sake.”

I crack a little smile at the sentiment and fight back some tears. “That’s… I really appreciate that, I do, I just don’t feel much like dancing. I am enjoying myself though, I mean as much as I can. Right now I’m just content watching everyone have a good time.”

“Well, I’m not gonna tell you what to do, because Tim Girard does what Tim Girard wants, but if you do need anything, let me know.”

“Actually there is one thing…”

“Name it.”

“Well, as you know, it is tradition that I do a strip tease at these parties, and since I’m out of commission, someone has to do it. I don’t want them to be disappointed. To some of them, I’m sure it’s the highlight of the night. Who knows, it might even get you laid.”

Now it’s his turn to crack a smile. “I will do this for you, but only because you’re my best friend.”

“And because it might get you laid. Hey, you don‘t have to do it only because I‘m asking you, you can do it because you want to. That’s the fun of selfishness. Feel free to use my room.”

“Hah, for someone who considers himself so selfish, you are pretty generous.”

“Selfishness is not about greed, it’s about making yourself happy. Right now, what would make me happy is for you to entertain my guests with a striptease, and then bang some chick as a result.”

“Well, if it’ll make you happy…”

I lift my bottle of vodka, as if to “cheers” him. He looks at the bottle and I can tell he is thinking of saying something about my drinking again, but decides against it. He knows that I’ll do what I want and that if I’m left to my own devices, I’ll turn out ok. That’s one of the reasons why he is my best friend.

His talk did help, but as I had said, I wasn’t ready for fun yet. Even my roommate came over and tried to make me laugh by shouting some gibberish in my face, followed by rubbing my head like a crystal ball. While I wasn’t in the mood to laugh out loud, it was funny and I gave him a smile to let him know the gesture was appreciated.

As the next song comes on, my best friend decides that it is “strip-worthy” and begins his routine. At first he seems a little uneasy and stiff, but soon the cheering starts and he loosens up and really starts to enjoy himself. As I’m watching, another smile creeps in and I feel, for lack of a better word, proud. The cheering has grown from the occasional shout to a constant swell. As he is taking his jeans off to reveal bright red boxer-shorts, one of the girls behind him slaps his ass. He turns around to face her in astonishment, pretends to scold her then continues removing his jeans. Once they are off, he proceeds to climb onto the couch and straddle one of the girls, at which point, the screaming reaches it’s peak.

Satisfied that I had done everything I could to make everyone have a good time, I decided to take a walk. Apparently it was imperative that I take a swig of vodka as I’m walking down the stairs and almost fell on my face. I managed to catch myself, but the bottle of vodka was not so lucky. It dropped to the driveway with a “thoompf”, fell on its side and then rolled under my car. This near catastrophe made me realize how drunk I actually was, and that it was a blessing in disguise that I lost the bottle. I straightened myself and staggered to the end of the driveway and turned left toward route 108, and beyond that, the ocean.

Now because I was drunkenly stumbling around outside at this point, I was not aware of what happened next. However, since then, the events that took place in my absence were…revealed to me, shall we say. Instead of telling the story out of order to be “artistic” as some directors do, I will include it now so it fits chronologically. Don’t worry, nothing bad happened to me on my walk. I didn’t walk out into traffic or drown in the ocean or anything. I just walked around the block a couple of times to clear my head. Yeah, boring, I know…that’s why I’m telling you this part of the story instead.

Immediately after I got to the end of my driveway and turned left, a blonde haired woman wearing a black dress comes down my street behind me, so I didn’t see her. She turns left into my driveway and walks slowly along the house to the back porch. She takes her time climbing the stairs, sliding her hand along the railing as she does. My best friend had just gone out to get some air after his big striptease and a few of his friends that he brought to the party came with him. They are laughing and rehashing what just went on inside, when the blonde haired woman, standing in the shadows, catches his eye.

“I was impressed with your moves,” she says to him.

“I didn’t see you in there. If I did, I would have given you special attention.”

She starts to walk toward him, but then goes to his left and behind him. He turns his head to the left, to follow her with his eyes.

“You may not have seen me, but I saw you...”

When his head can’t turn any more, he looks briefly forward, to give his friends an ‘Oh yeah’ nod, and turns his head the right to meet her on the other side. She stays behind him and peeks over his right shoulder showing only her blue eyes, but not the rest of her face.

“…and that’s all that matters.”

“Care to see more of my moves?” he asks.

Some time later, a girl opened my bedroom door. I don’t know if she was looking for me, and she thought I was in there, or if she was looking for her coat, or whatever. All I do know is that when I came back from my walk, the second I stepped through the kitchen door, I heard a blood curdling scream. In what seems like slow motion, I walk through the kitchen and as I do, someone kills the music. As I walk around the fridge, people are running from the living room and the back room into the hallway to see what is the matter. I push through them and see the girl leaning against the wall opposite my bedroom door, covering her face and crying. When I get to the door and look in, the first things I see are my best friend’s eyes. They are lifeless. He is lying face-up on my floor, wearing nothing but his red boxers. His forearms are torn open lengthwise, with a pool of blood under each.

I turn around to go throw up in the bathroom, but before I get there, I see the ugly hallway carpet rushing up towards me as everything goes black.

SPIDER-MAN: TEN SECONDS, ISSUE 4

2009-10-16T12:10:00.003-04:00

Black.

As if from a distance, “Peter.”
Closer this time, “Peter.”
“Peter?”

Peter opens his eyes to find that he is chained up, lying on a couch, in his tattered Spider-Man costume, minus the mask, with Aunt May in a chair looking over him.

“Wha, Aunt May? Where am I? How did I get here? I still have my costume on!” He begins to struggle and is on the verge of tears.

“Ssshhh, Peter, relax.” She pets his hair. “We are in Matt Murdock’s office. Daredevil brought you here.”

“Why am I chained up?”

“I wanted to make sure you stayed put.”

“Oh my God! How long was I out? I have to go! People could be dying!” He struggles again, becoming hysterical.

“Peter. PETER! Listen to me!

He stops.

“Peter, it’s OK.”

He relaxes reluctantly.

“Peter, I already knew that you are Spider-Man. Do you really think that you could keep a secret that big from someone so close to you? Here have some water. Drink it slowly; I don’t want you to choke. I knew that you were going through one of your “Peter Parker no more” phases, but when you wouldn’t take my calls, I figured I would have to get a little more drastic. I went to see Matt Murdock and had Daredevil find you and bring you here, to me, so that I could have a talk with you. So, why don’t you tell me what all the fuss is about?”

“Aunt May, someone died because of me. If you know that I’m Spider-Man, you must realize that I take pictures of myself, using the timer on my camera. Well, about two weeks ago, I was doing just that. Someone was being mugged in an alley, so I stopped to set up my camera. It only took about ten seconds, but in that time, the mugger shot the muggee and took off. I took him to the hospital as fast as I could, but he still died soon after. If I hadn’t stopped to set up my camera to make some money, he would still be alive! It’s my fault he is dead.
And it’s my fault Uncle Ben is dead too. When I first became Spider-Man, I was only in it for myself. At one point, the police were chasing a criminal and he ran past me. They yelled for me to stop him, but I didn’t, because it wasn’t my job to. The man I let run by, was the man who killed Uncle Ben.” Peter starts crying.

“Ok Peter, let’s work backwards. First of all, you need to take care of yourself. You can’t do anybody any good if you are a mess. Second, in this world, the way it is, you need money to live. I understand how bad you feel about making a living indirectly from other people’s suffering and the good you do, but until the government decides to pay everyone for their good deeds, you have to make a living somehow. Third, you are in no way at fault for any of those who died, including Uncle Ben. The only ones at fault are the ones who pulled the trigger.”

“But..”

“But nothing! That is the truth, and you take that into your heart right now young man!”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Ok, now part of why you came to those conclusions is because of your scientific mind. While your mind is amazing and capable of great things, it can also be your undoing, if you let your ego get the best of you. Your ego worked out a scenario, in perfect “post hoc, ergo propter hoc” fashion, which led you to the conclusion that YOU are responsible for those deaths.”

“Post hoc…? Where did you learn…?”

“Your dear old Aunt May is a lot smarter than you think. Anyway, you decided that it is up to YOU whether someone lives or dies. You gave yourself the Power and Responsibility of God. You know Peter; we never talked much about God when you were young, mostly because we didn’t need to. Religion is taught much of the time to make kids behave, and since you were such a good boy already, we didn’t feel the need to “put the fear of God” into you. Also, we knew that with your scientific mind, it wouldn’t be your language. You would want to prove whether or not God exists, but it doesn’t work that way. We figured that at some point you would come to terms with God in your own way. But right now, I feel that you need some perspective on God. Peter, why are you Spider-Man?”

“Because I was given this Power, and I have the Responsibility to..”

“Peter, you were also given the Power of that amazing scientific mind of yours. What about the Responsibility to use that?”

“…”

“We already know that a big part of why you are Spider-Man is out of guilt. Guilt because of what happened to Uncle Ben and how you thought it was your fault. But Peter, what do you enjoy about being Spider-Man?”

“What do you mean?”

“Hahaha, that fact that you don’t know what I mean is exactly the problem. Do you have fun cracking jokes, being sarcastic and embarrassing and punching out bad guys?”

“Yes.”

“Does it make you feel good to do what is right? To be the good guy?”

“Of course.”

“Do you feel amazing and free when you are swinging through the buildings of your city on your webs?”

Now with a smile, “Yes.”

“Peter, that is why God wants you to be Spider-Man. Not out of guilt or responsibility. Because you LOVE being Spider-Man. Because it is one of the things in this world that makes you the happiest. Because it is WHO YOU ARE. Peter, that is why Uncle Ben wants you to be Spider-Man, and it is why I want you to be Spider-Man.”

Peter weeps.

EPILOGUE

That weekend Peter calls aunt May. He is wearing his costume, minus the mask. (It is clean now.) She isn’t home so he leaves a message.

“Hi Aunt May, it’s Peter. I just want to thank you again for our little talk the other day; today is a brand new day for me. Oh, and I also wanted to let you know that I’ll be a little late to dinner tonight. I’m going to be out “doing what I love”, hehe. Ok, I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”

He pulls on his mask, leaps out the window and begins his patrol, swinging off into the sunset.

“Spider-Pig, Spider-Pig. Does whatever a Spider-Pig does. Can he swing from a thread? No he can’t, he’s a pig…”

At almost the same time, while Peter is leaving the message, Aunt May and J.J.J. Sr. are just walking in the door with a lot of luggage.

“Oh Jay, what a wonderful vacation that was! We will have to take two week cruises more often! It is good to be home, though. I hope Peter didn’t miss me too much. I think I heard him leaving a message as we were coming in.”

She hits the button and listens to his message.

“I wonder what talk he’s referring to? I am glad that whatever it was, he is doing what he loves! Well, if he’s planning on coming to dinner tonight, I guess I should get started making it.”

THE END

SPIDER-MAN: TEN SECONDS, ISSUE 3

2009-10-09T11:49:00.003-04:00

This issue… Spider-Man VS Daredevil!!!

“I may be old, Mr. Murdock, but I’m not stupid.” Aunt May says. “You expect me to think that it’s coincidence that my nephew is the only one to be able to take a decent picture of Spider-Man, and that they are always from some inhumanly high perspective, AND that every time Spider-Man fights a super villain, Peter is mysteriously missing, then shows up looking like he’s a member of Fight Club.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

“I know, I know, the first rule is you don’t talk about it. Believe it or not, I’ve actually seen it.”

“Mrs. Parker,”

“May.”

“May, what?”

“My name. It’s May. If I’m going to be so forward with you, the least I can do is let you use my first name.”

“Alright, May. Whatever your allegations are about your nephew and his “secret identity”, you have no right to come in here and harass me with accusations that have already been proven false.”

“Matthew, I am not your enemy, quite the opposite actually. However I do apologize for catching you off guard. I know it was very difficult when you were outed before, so I’ll pretend like you and Daredevil are two different people. Mr. Murdock, couldn’t you contact your friend Daredevil and tell him that an old woman wants him to help his friend Spider-Man.”

Matt calms down, and lets his super-senses do their thing. Everything checks out, and then some. There is something familiar about her, something…comforting. He’s not sure why, but he trusts her.

“You know Mrs. Parker, sorry, May, I did have this odd feeling before, like I used to know who Spider-Man was, but then I forgot. But that doesn’t make any sense! How would I forget something like that? Maybe that’s why you seem so familiar.”

“Maybe.”

“Well, what is it you want me…Daredevil…ME to do?”

“I want you to find him and bring him to me. I haven’t heard from Peter in about two weeks, but I keep hearing reports of Spider-Man being sighted, or saving people, so I know he’s ok. Well physically anyway, but something must be wrong emotionally. He has done this before, where he will lose himself in Spider-Man for a while. But it isn’t healthy because he usually becomes self-destructive when he does it. I need to talk to him and help bring him back from the edge. I need you to bring him here so I can do that”

“How am I supposed to find him? It’s not like he wears a watch that emits a high pitched frequency that only I can hear with my super-hearing.”

“He will easier to find than you think. When you find him, bring him back here. I’ll be waiting.”

“I’m not sure I can leave Hell’s Kitchen unattended. She needs me.”

“The Kitchen will be fine without you, just for tonight.”

Again he feels comforted and trusts her. “Ok,” he agrees.

Later that night, Daredevil is out looking for Peter. He is actually able to track him pretty quickly and easily, using just his sense of smell. After two weeks of not bathing and having food poisoning on top of that, Spider-Man has a vey unique odor, which is very easy to locate, even in the City. When Daredevil finally catches up with him, he is almost glad that he can’t see how bad he looks. It’s as if there is someone else behind the mask. Spider-Man’s body is frail and his costume is torn and dirty. His right arm is in a sling made out of old rags and he can barely walk. It’s a wonder he was able to make it to the roof. Daredevil swings over and lands on the roof directly in front of Spider-Man.

“Spider-Man, we have to talk.”

“No. You can’t delay me, not even for ten seconds!”

“Spider-Man, you…”

“Out of my way, Daredevil!”

“Peter, listen to me.”

“What did you just call me!?” Spider-Man lunges at him, but Daredevil easily steps out of the way.

“Your Aunt May came to me for help. She is worried about you.”

“WHAT!? How do you know who I am! Does she know? Did you tell her!?!?” He lunges again, Daredevil easily evades again.

“No, she came to me. She wants me to take you too her.”

“She’ll be fine. I have to go. People could die!” He runs away in the opposite direction.

“Sigh, I’m sorry Peter.” Daredevil throws his billy-club at Spider-Man. He is too weak to respond to the faint buzzing of his Spider-Sense, and the billy-club hits him in the head, knocking him unconscious.

TO BE CONCLUDED!

SPIDER-MAN: TEN SECONDS, ISSUE 2

2009-09-25T14:32:00.002-04:00

We begin this chapter with Spider-Man web-swinging through the city, only now, it is not so glorious. It has been over a week since he decided to be on the job 100% of the time. He has not showered, slept, or changed his costume in all that time, and the only food he has eaten is what he can grab on the run. He has only been back to his apartment when he needs more web cartridges, and even then he is in and out as fast as possible, for fear of someone else paying the ultimate price for his delay. Needless to say, he is exhausted, but he doesn’t let that stop him.

“Shoot. I’m almost out of web fluid, but I haven’t finished my patrol yet. I can stay out longer if I conserve it by running and jumping from building to building instead of web swinging. That should at least get me through the rest of this round before starting over again.”

He lands on the nearest rooftop and begins his run-and-jump through the rest of his route. Soon it pays off.

“HELP!”

“I told you to shut up!”

Once Spider-Man hears this, he is in the alley like a bullet. He makes quick work of the would-be mugger, punching him out and webbing him to the wall. No jokes, no sarcasm, and before the woman can say “thank you”, Spider-Man is gone. He is back to the rooftops to look for his next potential victim to save.

After more exhausting running-and-jumping, Spider-Man finally gets back to his apartment. He bolts I through the window and goes right to where his web-cartridge stash is.

“Oh man, this last batch is all that’s left. I guess I should keep running and jumping from building to building. It’s much more tiring, but I’ve got to conserve these since they’re my last. I haven’t figured out how I can make more since in the time it would take me to mix up a new batch, people could be dying. I’ve already wasted too much time here as it is. I should grab some food for the road and take off.”

He drops the cartridges on the kitchen table and begins rummaging through the fridge. While he is doing that, the phone rings, which at first he ignores. However, once the machine picks up and he hears Aunt May’s voice, he lifts his head up out of the fridge.

“Hello, Peter, are you there?”

“Maybe I should answer it… No. In the time it would take, someone could die.”

He slams the fridge door closed, taking with him whatever he happened to have in his hand at that moment, without even checking to see if it is still good (P.S. it isn’t). He swipes the web cartridges from the kitchen table and dives out the window, going out on patrol again.

“Peter, please pick up if you’re there. I haven’t seen or heard from you in over a week and I am worried. Peter, if there is something wrong or if you’re in trouble, I hope you know that you can always talk to me about it. Well, please call me as soon as possible to let me know you’re all right. I love you, Peter.”

Aunt May hangs up the phone, thinks for second, picks it up again and dials a new number. After a moment she says, “Yes, hello, I’d like to make an appointment. It’s rather complicated; I’d prefer to just explain when I get there. Yes, thank you. It’s May Parker. Ok, I’ll see you then. Thank you, goodbye.”

A few days later, we catch up with an even worse-off wall-crawler. He ate the rotten food from his fridge, giving him food poisoning, which normally, wouldn’t affect him this bad. However, with the lack of nourishment and rest, it hit him almost as hard as it would the rest of us. (You can imagine for yourself what it’s like trying to deal with vomiting and diarrhea in that costume.) By this point his costume is starting to look a little loose on him, due to a loss of weigh and muscle mass.

Still using his running and jumping method, he comes to a gap in buildings that he cannot leap in a single bound. After running and jumping as far as he can, he relies on his trusty right-hand-web-shooter to take him the rest of the way… and it fails. It takes him a second to realize he shot a blank. He franticly tries it a few more times, but it is completely empty. He tries his left-hand one, which does shoot a web-line, but now he is taken by surprise and off balance. He is able to hold on to the web line, but without being able to shoot a web-line from his right hand, or switch hands and shoot another web-line from his left hand (remember, he’s sick) to stabilize himself; he just ends up slamming into the side of the building. After taking a moment to catch his breath, he climbs his way to the top of the building that he just crashed into and assesses the situation.

“This is my absolute last web-cartridge. I should switch it to my right hand, since if I’m only going to have one, it should be on my dominant hand.” While he is doing that, he hears a scream.

He jumps of the building and on his way down, looks for the source of the scream, which he soon finds. There is a car-jacking taking place, but instead of the driver getting out, the car-jacker made her move to the passenger seat. At first, Spider-Man follows the car, web-swinging with his one web-shooter, while he figures out what to do.

“I don’t want to hurt the woman, so I can’t just swing in the side window feet first and kick the driver. I also can’t just slam down on the hood, smash the windshield and jerk the wheel. She probably doesn’t have her seatbelt on, so I should slow the car down gradually. I also don’t want him to freak out and shoot her. Ok, first priority is to disarm him. I’ve got it!”

Spider-Man lands, clinging to the side of the car. This surprises the car-jacker, so he points his gun at Spider-Man, as he hoped. Spider-Man webs up the gun and gives him a quick punch to the face, knocking him unconscious.

“Put it in neutral!” he screams at the woman. When he sees that she does, he leaps from the car. “Please, God, let me have enough left,” he thinks. While flipping through the air he shoots a web-line at the driver’s side rear fender, which he quickly takes it in his left hand, and then does the same to the roof, trunk, passenger’s side rear fender, and once he lands, the same to the rear axle. Making sure he has a good grip on the web-lines in his left hand, he plants his feet and right hand to the street. The web-line stretches and starts to become taught, then tight as he strains against the weight and speed of the car. It gradually comes to a stop, at which point he releases his hold on the ground.

Still holding onto the webs he walks, on uneasy legs, to the car, it’s engine still revving. He opens the driver’s side door, and pulls the car-jacker out. The engine idles down, now that his foot is no longer on the gas. Considerate until the end, Spider-Man gets in, presses the brake, puts the car in park, and turns off the engine. To conserve webbing, he wraps the car-jacker up in the webbing he used to stop the car. As the woman finally gets herself together enough to come say “thank you”, Spider-Man crawls up a lamppost and hops to the nearest building top.

His arms and legs are like rubber, but still he presses on, making his way back to his patrol route. After a few leaps from building to building, he comes to another huge gap. Without thinking, he launches himself as far across as he can, and aims his web-shooter to do the rest. It shoots about four feet of webs followed by nothing but air, like an emptied silly-string can. He falls, barely even having the energy to flail. He hits a fire-escape which bounces him to the adjacent building and he slides down the wall to finally land in a dumpster; bloody, broken and unconscious.

The next day, Aunt May walks into a waiting room.

The receptionist asks, “May I help you?”

“Yes, I have an appointment. My name is May Parker.”

“Ah yes, Mrs. Parker, go right in.”

“Thank you.”

“Hello Mrs. Parker, what can I help you with?” asks the man behind the desk.

“My nephew Peter needs your help, Mr. Murdock. Or should I say, Spider-Man needs your help, Daredevil.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

SPIDER-MAN: TEN SECONDS, ISSUE 1

2009-09-17T15:35:00.003-04:00

A lot can happen in ten seconds…

We begin our story with Peter Parker, the Amazing Spider-Man, web-swinging through the fine city of New York. It is a beautiful day, the sun is shining and our hero is in high spirits.

He is singing (to the tune of the Batman TV theme), “Na-na-na-na na-na-na-na, na-na-na-na na-na-na-na, Spider-Man… Spider-Man… Here-comes-Peter-on-a-web-line, but-his-name’s-not-Peter-it-is, Spider-Man… Spider-Man…”

He happens to look down an alley while he is swinging by and notices a mugging taking place.

“Whoa, looks like someone didn’t get the memo that today is my day off, so no mugging is allowed. And this poor soul didn’t get the memo that you shouldn’t walk down alleys in New York. Lucky for him, his Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man happened to be swinging by. Lucky for me too, my rent is due in a couple of days and I’m almost out of web fluid, not to mention food. It’ll just take me ten seconds to web my camera to the corner of the building, angle it toward where the action will take place and set the timer. There, all…”

BANG!!

“What the!?”

Spider-Man turns his attention from his camera to the alleyway just in time to see the victim lying on the ground and the mugger running out to the street.

“Oh no…”

Less concerned with stopping the mugger, Spider-Man jumps into the alley to check the condition of the victim.

“Hey, are you ok? Can you hear me? Oh my God, I don’t think he’s breathing. I better get him to a hospital. There’s so much blood. This web bandage should help in the meantime.”

Spider-Man gently picks the man up and puts him over his shoulder. He web-swings as fast as he can without jostling the man too much. He arrives at the hospital in less than five minutes.

“HELP! Please, I need a doctor! Hurry, this man has been shot!”

“Here, I’ll take him. What happened?”

“I saw him getting mugged so I was going to help him. I just stopped for ten seconds to…”

“Ok, I’ll take it from here.”

“I’ll be here waiting, I need to know he’s ok. Please, let me know when he’s ok.”

“Someone will let you know.”

“I don’t care if it takes all day…”

It does not take all day however. Within minutes, the doctor returns.

“Doctor, how is he? Is he ok?”

“I’m sorry Spider-Man, but I’m afraid we lost him. He’d lost too much blood by the time you brought him here. We tried, but could not revive him. Now if you’ll excuse me, we need to contact his family.”

Spider-Man returns to the alley to get his camera, and starts to think out loud.

“It’s all because of this. All because I just had to stop and set up my camera. I just had to make sure I got pictures of me being a hero. If I had just stopped the mugging as soon as I got here, that man would still be alive. Once again, someone died because of my inaction. I’ve been so selfish, making a living off of these crimes and other people’s misfortune. From now on, I am only about the mission. No one else will die on my watch!”

Spider-Man swings off to patrol, purposefully leaving his camera behind.

TO BE CONTINUED…

Chapter 17

2008-08-24T02:55:00.001-04:00

CHAPTER 17

OK. This is how it is. They’re gone. Not coming back. All I can do is live with that. All I can do is live. It still fucking sucks and it still hurts like hell, but I can’t change any of it. Sitting around thinking about it and feeling sorry for myself only makes it worse, not better. The only way it’s going to get better is if I go out and do something. Anything.

The “me” that I was before this happened is gone. When it happened, I entered a new part of my life, shitty though it was. I miss so many parts of my old life before it happened, even things as simple as just being happy. Not having to do anything to make myself happy, just being happy. I wish so much that I could go back to that…but I know I can’t. The only thing I can do is to move forward. The only way I can make things better is to go to the next part of my life. If the time before was, “before my family died” and since has been, “after my family died”, I have to move to something beyond that. I have to begin the part of my life that is simply, “Tim’s Life”. I kind of like that. Puts a little smile on my face.

I’m going to take a deep breath and take the next step. I am now going to embark on this journey that is “Tim’s Life”. I don’t know what it will be, but I know it’s a journey that only I can take. I know they will be there, watching me.

I miss you like crazy, and I will always love you. Goodbye.

Chapter 16

2008-07-15T22:09:00.001-04:00

CHAPTER 16

I read a comic book one time that said, “you can’t feel numb, you can only be numb.” That was it. I couldn’t feel, I could only be numb. It’s not that I wasn’t sad, or upset or anything. I think it was that my mind and body just…shut down. Maybe I was in shock, or maybe it was to protect myself. I don’t know. I was a zombie.

I think that one of the things that made it so hard was that I had no one to support in their grieving. If it was just my Dad that died, I could be there for my Mom and sisters, and I probably wouldn’t be feeling it as much. But it was only me. I had all of it. Alone. Sure I have friends that were there for me, but they were not grieving with me. I think that grieving with someone would have made it easier.

At this point, I was way past the time off from school and work that they had given me to grieve. I wasn’t ready to go back however. Or maybe I didn’t want to. Maybe I had trouble finding importance in anything. How does that work? “My whole family is dead, but it’s really important that I go to school and get a degree so I can write music.” Makes no sense. And don’t even get me started on my job. Talk about pointless. “My family is dead, but I need to fold shirts and try to get the customers to buy a belt with their pants.” Fucking stupid. Even fun things lost their luster. I didn’t want to read, I didn’t want to play video games, I didn’t want to watch movies. Hence, I spent most of my time in bed.

One morning (or was it afternoon?) my roommate actually knocked on my door to ask if I was going to class. I guess he knew by this point that I had been blowing them off for a while. I told him no. He took some time trying to convince me, (which in retrospect I do appreciate) but I didn’t even care enough to make up an excuse or anything. I just let him talk. I asked if he was done, he said yes, and I told him to let me get back to sleep. I guess he respected my privacy enough not to come in, open my shade to let the sun in and drag me out of bed (like you see in the movies). After a moment I heard him walk away and leave for class. I lay there for a while, staring at the wall, and at some point, found my way to sleep.

I wake up to the phone ringing. I’ve got to turn the ringer volume down. I just listen to it, my whole body getting angrier with each ring. When it finally stops, I hear the answering machine’s outgoing message come on and then the muffled voice of someone leaving a message. I roll over and realize that I have to piss so bad it hurts, so I drag myself out of bed and go. While I’m up, I figure I’ll shuffle around the house for a little bit. I notice that it’s getting dark out, so I go into the kitchen to see what time it is. It’s 5:38, which gives me a good idea who was calling. I hit the message button and listen. Sure enough it was work. “You were supposed to be here at five, blah blah blah, we are sorry about your family, blah blah blah, but we’re going to have to fire you… Blah… Blah… Blah.” I look in the fridge to see if any food catches my eye, but nothing does. I check the freezer, but also nothing. Same goes for all the cupboards. Ok, now I’m bored. Then, something occurs to me. Hey, don’t I always complain about not having enough time to compose? Shit. No school, no work, I’ve got nothing but time! Unfortunately however, this optimism is short-lived. I turn on my computer and keyboard, and open all the appropriate files, and find all my notes…and end up playing the melodies to the themes of my favorite film scores. At least it’s something, I guess.

I’m still “playing” a couple of hours later when my roommate comes home and I hear him hit the message button on the answering machine. I didn’t hit the delete button after I listened to my message, so now it plays for him. He comes practically storming in and gives me a surprised and disappointed sounding, “You got fired?” “That’s what the message says,” I tell him. He tells me, “Tim, I know that you’re upset, but you can’t let go of all your responsibilities.” I tell him that, “It’s not because I’m upset, it’s because I fucking hated my job and at this point, it didn’t make sense to go anymore.” “What about rent?” he throws at me. The only response I can come up with is that, “I don’t really care about it right now.” “The world doesn’t just go away when you want it to,” is his last ditch effort. I tell him that, “I know the world doesn’t go away, but it will be fine without me for a while.”

Chapter 15

2008-06-26T17:20:00.001-04:00

CHAPTER 15

Hi God, it’s Tim. We both know I don’t normally come to you with stuff like this, because I know that it’s not your nature, or the nature of our relationship. I know that you’re not some being “out there” and instead you’re “in here”. But I don’t know what else to do. I guess I just feel helpless, and maybe in this time of need it’s comforting to think of you out there, watching over me. I mean, the book really did help me to remember how the conversation works. But I guess with all that’s happened, I’ve forgotten again. That’s why I’m coming to you now, like this. On my knees, praying. Please, bring them back.

Even as I kneel here and think about it, it seems crazy. What are you going to do, bring them back from the grave like zombies? That’s just stupid. I mean I guess you could turn back time and make it so they didn’t die in the first place. You are Omnipotent. I know! You could make it so that they faked their own death, for like a witness protection program, and they’ve been alive all along and they haven’t gotten word to me yet. It would look more convincing this way if anyone is keeping an eye on me. Wait, that’s stupid too. I know it’s not up to me how you do it. It’s probably outside the realm of my understanding anyway. So OK, go ahead. Do what you need to do. Still no?

Ok, what if I promise to start going to church again? I’ll go every day and twice on Sunday. How about…girls. I’ll give up on girls. I’ll stay single and devote my life to you. What if I never play video games again and I give up all of my comic books? I’ll work in soup kitchens and give all my stuff to homeless people. I’ll quit composition and I’ll become a music teacher if that’s what you want. I’ll do anything you want me to do, just please give them back.

“Sigh…whatever.”

Chapter 14

2008-06-20T02:08:00.002-04:00

CHAPTER 14

“This is so fucked up! My Dad’s a Firefighter. We had smoke alarms in the house. How could this happen?”
“I don’t know man. It…I don’t know.”

I’m back in that favorite doughnut place with my best friend again. This time the conversation is very different.

“It doesn’t make any sense. None of them woke up at any point and noticed? Not one of them thought, ‘Gee, it’s really hot in here’ or ‘I wonder where all the smoke is coming from’? I mean fucking burned alive! How horrible is that!?”
“Actually, when people die in a fire like that, it’s from smoke inhalation. They suffocate before the flames get to them. It’s very rare that someone actually burns alive.”
“Well thank God for small favors!” I say sarcastically.
“I just figured you’d feel better about it if you knew that it was at least…peaceful.”
“Sigh…I guess. OK, yeah you’re right. I’m glad that they weren’t burning and screaming with their skin melting off when they died. But that doesn’t change the fact that they’re gone.”
“I know.”
“If someone had called sooner and if the fire trucks had gotten there faster, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. Maybe one of them would have woken up when they heard the siren and gotten everyone out.”
“Maybe, but…”
“And how did the fire even start!? Did someone leave a candle burning or a curling iron plugged in or something? My family’s too obsessive compulsive and afraid of something like that happening to not check and make sure before going to bed.”
“That’s true, but…”
“FUCK! Do you know what the worst part is? The whole time I was at my concert, I was pissed off at them. I thought they just forgot or didn’t feel like driving down or blew me off. I was livid! Come to find out, they were dead. They’re dead and all I could think about is how they weren’t at my concert.”
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up.”
“RRRRGOD!” After this last outburst I got very tired all of a sudden. I put my head down in my arms, on the table. “I just feel…crazy. That’s the only way I can describe it. Does that make sense.”
“It’ll be OK. I don’t know how or when, and I know you probably can’t imagine it being OK, but it will be. You will be OK.”
“God help me.”

Chapter 13

2008-06-12T13:53:00.002-04:00

CHAPTER 13

It was a dream. It was all a bad dream. I must have watched a fucked up movie this week. Or maybe ate something weird before I went to bed last night. I should get up. Maybe I’ll give them a call. What day is it? Maybe the concert hasn’t happened yet. Maybe I dreamed that too. I should go see what day it is. Maybe I have class today. It might be a weekday. I’ll go check. In a minute. I do have to piss though. OK, I’ll get up.

I got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom. I could hear the TV on and then my roommate moving around. When I came out of the bathroom, he startled me, because he was right there in the hallway.

“Ah! Hey, what’s up? What time is it?”
“Twelve thirty. How…how are you?”
“Good. I had some fucked up dreams, but I got a lot of sleep. How are you?”
“Um…I’m fine. Listen…”
“Hey, what day is it?”
“Wednesday.”
“Wednesday? Well I guess I’m not going to class then, haha. How come you’re not in class?”
“I told you I’d go with you.”
“Go? Do I have something today? Let me check my planner.”

I run into my room and quickly fish through my bag. When I find my planner, I flip through to this month. By this time my roommate is standing in my doorway.

“Oh, his wake is today. I must’ve dreamed going to that too. You’re coming to the wake with me?”
“No…well yeah, but today we’re going to make the arrangements.”
“Oh no, his family took care of that all ready. I do want to go to his wake though, and that’s cool that you’re coming.”
“What? No, that was last week.”
“No, today. Look, you said it’s Wednesday, here it is in my planner, “wake”.”
“That’s last week. This is today. We’re going to…”
“No, because here’s where my Wind Ensemble concert is and that’s this coming Sunday…”
“No, that was last Sunday.”
“No, that was a dream, which means the concert didn’t happen yet, which means that it is this coming Sunday!”
“You really don’t know what we’re doing today do you?”
“Yes it’s right here: the wake!”
“Tim…we’re going to make funeral arrangements…”
“I told you, his family is doing them.”
“For your family!”
“Fuck you! That’s not fuckin’ cool! How would you like it if after you got up, all disoriented from a nightmare, I tried to trick you into thinking your family was dead and that it was one week into the future!?”
“I’m not trying to trick you. You must’ve blocked it out or something…”
“IT. WAS. A. DREAM!!”
“Tim, it wasn’t.”
“Oh yeah, then how did they die?”
“…The house burned down with everyone in it.”
“…”
“You came home Sunday, after your Wind Ensemble concert and said that they didn’t show up. There was a message from your Grandmother on the answering machine. You called her back and that’s when she told you. Then you passed out. You’ve been mostly just sleeping the past couple of days. That’s probably why you don’t remember much and think it was a dream. You are going today to make all the funeral arrangements and I’m going with you.”

“FUCK YOU!!” I scream and then I start to cry. I stand there sobbing with my head and shoulders slumped. After a while he puts his arm around me.

“Come on man, let’s go do this work.”

Chapter 12

2008-05-30T00:01:00.001-04:00

CHAPTER 12

“How was the concert?” my roommate asked.
“Good, except that my family didn’t fuckin’ show up.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know. They didn’t call or leave a message on my phone and I’ve been calling the house all the way home, but no one’s picking up. Did they call here?”
“There’s a message on the machine, but it’s your Grandma.”

I hit the answering machine button and sure enough, I hear my Grandmother’s voice.

“Hi Tim, it’s Grandma. Can you give me a call when you get this.”

That was the only message. I hit the button angrily to delete it.

“Maybe she knows where they are.”
“That’s true. They’re probably over at her house and that’s why they forgot all about it.”

I look up her number in my cell phone and hit SEND. As it’s ringing, I try to clam down a little, because I don’t want to lash out at my Grandma. It takes a while for someone to answer and I figure they must be outside. I’m about to hang up when I hear her answer.

“Hi Grandma, it’s Tim.” I get impatient, and instead of waiting for her to tell me why she called, I jump in. “Hey, are Mom and Dad and the girls there? Did they remember that I had a concert today? Do you know where they are?” She begins to tell me where they are. “A fire? Our house? Is everyone ok?” …

I’m vaguely aware of my Grandmother’s voice fading into the distance and my roommate yelling to me from the other room as I get tunnel vision. I remember a thump, and looking up at my roommate, shaking me and asking if I am ok, before everything goes black.

Chapter 11

2008-05-22T20:16:00.001-04:00

CHAPTER 11

So it’s Sunday and I have a Wind Ensemble concert. Ensembles are half way between music classes and composing on my “things I like scale”. I love performing, I just love composing and performing my own music more. Also, the music that we play is not always the most interesting, so sometimes I would rather be in class. My main gripe is that we play too many orchestral arrangements. Now back in the day, that was pretty much all bands could play besides marches. Nowadays however, there are plenty of composers putting out brand new literature, specifically for concert band/wind ensemble. And if you can’t find any of them, hell, you got one right here. I would love to have one of the pieces from my Bible epic performed in this recital hall!

Wind Ensemble concerts are at 3:00 but we have a dress rehearsal at before that at 1:00. When my family comes, they get here early and I get them free tickets (I have connections). They usually show up between 1:30 and 2:00. During dress rehearsal, I’ll peek my head out of the stage door to see if they’ve shown up, whenever I get a break. I quickly glance up and down the hallway and then run back in. This time however, even after I did this a bunch of times, up until the end of dress rehearsal, I didn’t see them. After dress rehearsal, I ran up the hallway, toward the box office to see if they were around the corner. Still no sign. I went back through the stage door and looked out into the audience to see if maybe they had snuck in. The front row of seats, where my Mom likes to sit was still empty, so I knew they weren’t in there. When I came out into the hall, I saw one of my percussion buddies. He’s met at least some of my family before, so I figured he would recognize them if he saw them.

“Hey, have you seen any of my family around?” I asked him.
“No. They’re not here yet?”
“No. Usually they’re here by the time we finish rehearsal.”
“Maybe we ended earlier than we usually do.”
“Maybe. What time is it?”
“It’s about ten past 2. Maybe they’re just running a little late.”
“I guess. I’ll be outside. If you see them, can you tell them where I am.”
“Sure.”

I stopped at the percussion room to grab my cell phone, then went outside and ran up a few of the aisles in the parking lot to see if the van was there. I didn’t see it. I checked my voice mail to see if they called. They didn’t. I called the house. Got no answer. I figured it was because they already left and were on the road. I stayed outside to watch for them so I would know right when they got here. After pacing around outside for about a half hour, I went back inside. I dropped my phone off in the percussion room, and checked all the same places that I did before. I ran up toward the box office, but they weren’t among the people waiting to go in. I ran back and checked on stage, but the front row of seats was still empty. When I came out from back stage, I even looked up and down the hall again, but they were not here. I went around the corner toward the band room and saw my percussion buddy again, talking with his girlfriend and one of her friends.

“Did you find them?” he asked.
“No, I didn’t”
“Maybe they’re already inside. Did you check..”
“Yeah, I checked in the audience, over by the box office, even out in the parking lot, but they’re not here.”
“Well they’ve been here before, so when they show up, they’ll know where to go.”
“Yeah.”

Now it was time to start filing on stage. The percussionists have to go on last anyway, because we’re in the back, so I took that opportunity to check the parking lot once more. I came back in, just in time to be the last one on stage, but not look like I was late.

I wouldn’t say I played poorly, because the parts weren’t that hard, but my heart definitely wasn’t in it. I kept looking over to that empty front row, hoping I’d see them come in, in between pieces. When the concert was over and the house lights came on, I stayed on stage and looked toward the back of the audience. I figured that if they came in late, maybe they wouldn’t want to come all the way up to the front and just go to the first empty seats they saw. If that were the case however, even if I didn’t see them, they would see me now, and come over to the stage. I kept looking until I was sure that the last few stragglers weren’t them. I walked out into the hall, this being the last ditch effort, figuring maybe they’d be out there waiting for me. As I was standing there, I felt a hand on my shoulder and it gave me a sense of relief. When I turned and saw that it was my percussion buddy, my heart sank (no offence to him).

“Hey, did you end up finding your family?”
“Nope, they never showed up,” I said as I shrugged, kind of annoyed by this point.

I put the percussion instruments away, which only annoyed me further, because everyone else and their families were getting in my way. When I was done, I grabbed my stuff out of the percussion room and headed for the van. I took out my cell phone and when I had a signal (you don’t get reception in the FAC), I checked my voicemail again. I called the house again. Now I was just pissed. What the hell were they doing? Why would they just blow me off like that?

Chapter 10

2008-05-15T15:59:00.003-04:00

CHAPTER 10

Luckily I didn’t have to work that night, because I was not in the mood. I mean, I am never in the mood, but I was really not in the mood. After trading quick ‘What’s up?’s with my roommate, I went right to my room. I emptied the entire contents of my bag onto my bed. My notebooks, my Latin note cards, my Latin text book and workbook, my music manuscript paper, my composition notes, my scores that I was studying. Looking at the pile, I decided it was time to make a choice: do what I hate, or do what I love. This may seem obvious when just presented with the choice itself, however, it is not always easy when you consider the terms of the choice, or the possible consequences. Nevertheless, in light of recent events, I made my choice. I sifted through the pile and pulled out anything composition related and placed it on my desk chair. This was my choice: to do what I love. With a sigh of relief, I began to work.

For a couple of years, I had wanted to compose music based on different parts of the Bible, specifically, Genesis, The Passion and Revelation. As the idea gestated, (as all my ideas do before being born) different ideas came to me about slight changes that could be made to the way the stories were told. For example, in Genesis, instead of an apple, Eve was tempted with sex (what else do you know of that looks like a snake holding an apple?). Instead of The First Horseman of the Apocalypse riding on a white horse, maybe it’s a ‘White House’ (see what I did there?). Here’s where it gets a little crazy: I decided to add vampires. Actually, no. I didn’t decide to add vampires, it just happened that way. Everything just fit so well, I couldn’t not mix them in. It’s like they were originally there, and were taken out of the stories to make the versions we know today. Vampires do play a much bigger part than I imagined at the beginning, but I won’t tell you how. You’ll just have to buy the books. Anyway, this epic is what I decided to work on that night (and pretty much every chance that I have, since then).

After working for a while, I saw movement at my bedroom door, out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look, but nothing was there. I turned back to my music and a couple of seconds later, it was there again. I turned once more to the door, but again - nothing. This time, instead of turning back to my music, I kept looking at the doorway, to see if whatever it was would show itself again…and it did. A little orange and grey orangutan face peeked sideways around the door, followed by my roommates head. He does this all the time, walking sideways silently by my door to subtlety get my attention. (Oh, and the orangutan is a stuffed animal that he makes dance and sing and hump people…hilarious.) We both laugh (I needed it) as he straightens up and comes in.

“What’re you doin’?” he asks.
“What’s up,” I reply.
“Aren’t you supposed to be doin’ homework?” he asks, looking at my bed and seeing the pile of Latin paraphernalia I am ignoring.
“Yeah,” I say defiantly (not defiant to him, defiant to ‘The Man’).
“Well why aren’t you doin’ it?” doing a mock impersonation of my father.
“Cuz I don’t wanna. Haha. I’m working on my music.”
“All right,” he says kind of disappointed. I think he wanted to play. He makes his orangutan wave goodbye as he walks backward out of my room, doing this high pitch whistle that we’ve been doing since Marching Band Camp, Sophomore year. I laugh and wave good bye and then settle back in to write.

I actually get a lot of work done. At this point, there was nothing really solidified, mostly just themes. I had music for the Garden of Eden, the Tree of Knowledge, an overall Good vs. Evil theme, as well as some instrument and rhythm associations to certain characters. For example, Adam is the French Horn, Eve is the flute and the Devil is the bassoon or oboe, depending on... well, you’ll find out later. I also have some nature sounds related to the overtone series, but now I’m getting too ‘music nerd’. Mostly what I did that night was play around with some of those ideas at my keyboard. There was one new idea that came to me that night though: music for someone being turned into a vampire. If vampires are going to be a part of this story, then at some point, someone is going to get turned. It was interesting because it combined a few of the other themes that I had been working with, in addition to some new ones.

It was only when my roommate came in, wrapped in a blanket and sleepy eyed, that I realized how much time had passed.

“What are you still doin’ up, dude, are you still workin’ on that?”
“Yup.”
“You’re fuckin’ nuts dude you need to go to bed. I’m goin’ to bed. Night.”
“I’ll see ya tomorrow some time.”

I didn’t stop to see exactly what time it was, but if my roommate was that tired, then it was late. I was still so pumped about composing again that I didn’t care. I kept going, and only stopped when I felt like I was going to pass out. I did even nod off a few times. And even though, for the last hour or so, I didn’t do anything but play the same stuff over and over again, I still loved every minute of it. I can’t remember a time when I was happier.

Chapter 9

2008-05-08T15:05:00.000-04:00

CHAPTER 9

So I’m late again. This time, however, when I am sitting for a ridiculously long time at the intersection of Route 1 and 138, I say nothing. I do nothing. But sit. And wait. I am quiet. I am still. I stare straight ahead. Blankly. I do not care that I am late. I do not know exactly how late I am, because I have not checked my watch. I do not care how late I am. I do know however, that I am VERY late.

Finally the light turns green and I creep through it. I get on 138 and adhere to the speed limit. For the entire drive I am mildly aware of the trees and the color of the leaves. The part of me that notices this, and wants to appreciate the beauty of it, is screaming, “hey, if we’re late we might as well enjoy the scenery!” “You used to love the trees in fall.” The rest of me does not care. The rest of me is pissed. Pissed that my friend is gone. Pissed that while he was dying, I was partying. Pissed that I spent most of my time being late for things I do not really care about. Pissed that I spend more time doing things that I hate, than I do composing. Pissed that I have not been living. Pissed, ironically, that I cannot enjoy the trees right now.

When the trip down 138 is finally finished and I take the right onto the little back-road, I start becoming more aware of my driving, which is good because it gets me out of my head. There is virtually no traffic on the roads because I am so late, but I still do not speed. When I get to the parking lot, I instinctively go to the entrance closest to the building and go up one of the rows of spots. I usually do this to find the spot closest to the building, as I am sure most of you do. This time, I do not care about finding a close spot and I end up driving past a few empty spaces. When I finally feel like stopping, I pull into the next space that I see. I do not go through my high speed routine in one fluid motion like I normally do. Every move I do is slow and deliberate. I unbuckle my seatbelt. I put the car in park. I roll up the window. I turn off the engine. I take out the key. I pick my bag up off the seat. I open the door. I lock it. I get out. I shut the door. I walk down the row of parked cars, realizing just how far away I am. Usually I am running, so it goes by a lot quicker, but walking seems to take forever.

When I finally get to the FAC and step inside, I see that the hallways are completely empty. Usually when I’m a little late, there are a few people who just got out of class and are hanging out, or finishing a conversation before they leave to go do something else. I am so late that everyone who is not in class, has already gone home or to lunch or to some other class. I make a left and walk toward the tables where people are usually sitting. I take another left and walk down the ramp. I get to the door on my right which, now that I’m not in a hurry, is open. (I do laugh to myself at this bit of irony.) I trudge up the stairs one at a time. When I get to the door, I don’t even bother trying it to see if it is open. I just knock obnoxiously and wait for someone to let me in. When someone finally does, I step through and walk toward the professor, awaiting my lecture.

“Mr. Girard…” He checks his watch. “You know, two weeks ago, you were here ten minutes after the class began.” He checks his watch again. “But now it’s ten minutes before the end of the class. You know, It’s hardly worth coming to class. We’ve got three more weeks of the semester and…”
“Fine,” I cut him off, shrugging my shoulders.
“What?”

I turn around and walk out, slamming the door behind me. As I’m going down the stairs, I undo the velcro strap on my watch. When I get to the bottom of the stairs, I rip my watch off of my wrist and throw it in the trash can.

Chapter 8

2008-05-01T23:31:00.001-04:00

CHAPTER 8

About an hour later, I get back to my house. When I go inside, I see my roommate in the living room watching TV. After some small talk, I finally get down to talking about what’s really on my mind.

“You know, I understand death. Death is not bad for those that died. They go on to another better place..”
“Heaven?”
“Or re-incarnation, or what ever.”
“Which one is it, do you think?”
“I think it depends on the person.”
“Like if they’re good they go to heaven, bad they go to hell, in between they get re-incarnated?”
“Kind of, but I don’t think it’s an absolute kind of thing. I don’t believe there is someone up there that decides, ‘you were bad, you go to hell’ or ‘you did what I wanted you to do, so you get to come chill with us in the clouds’. I think that whatever a person believes and however they live, that is the experience they create for themselves in the afterlife.”
“Like how ghosts are spirits of people who are holding on to something in this world?”
“Yeah like that, but it goes for everyone though. Plus I don’t think you need to listen to what religions tell you to do, in order to live your life the right way and get the afterlife you desire.”
“So what, you think people can do whatever they want, steal, rape and kill, and they can still go to heaven if that’s what they want?”
“If a person does all those things, then they are dwelling in a very dark place and they are creating a lot of painful emotions that will cling to them and that will become a part of what is in their afterlife. But it is all made up of things that they chose, not some punishments imposed by this celestial being.”
“So you don’t believe in God?”
“Not the way most people do. I don’t believe in the man with the white beard and the white robe. I don’t believe in the vengeful, wrathful, punishing father figure with human emotions like jealousy anger and the need for power over others. I don’t believe in a god that tests us by saying, “prove that you love me by killing your only son.” I don’t believe in a god that stacks up all our ‘sins’ and uses them against us. I don’t believe in a god that gives us this ’free will’ to do what we want, except that there is a right and wrong thing to do, and if we do the ’wrong’ thing, we get punished for it. This results in us making choices based on what ‘won’t get us in trouble’ rather than what we actually would choose to do.”
“So you think people should be allowed to do whatever they want, like kill?”
“How come whenever the subject of ‘doing whatever you want’ comes up, killing is the first thing on your mind? Is the fear of getting arrested or going to hell the only thing keeping you from killing? You know what, don’t answer that. (Sigh…) There are plenty of laws and commandments that say not to kill, and that doesn’t stop the people who do. All that image of ‘God’ does, is put fear in the hearts of people who are probably already good people to begin with.”
“So what do you think God is then?”
“It’s more than that. Way more. I haven’t quite been able to put it into words yet, but I have an idea. In a science textbook I read at some point, it had a definition of the Universe. I didn’t say, “all the stars and planets and dust and empty space,“ or anything like that. I simply said, “everything there is“. That’s how I think of God. God is everything, everywhere, every when. God isn’t just some being out there in space separate from us, God is us, and everything in between. I don’t know, it sounds kind of generic when I say it out loud, but the way I feel it and think about it, I know it’s true. Plus God is so vast that you can’t put human limitations on it and anyone who does, obviously has the wrong idea. I mean no limited human mind could perceive what God is. They think they can, but that is pride and their ego talking…”
“’They’…? What, like you aren’t human too?”
“…huh? Where was I? Oh yeah, so the conventional ideas of god and the afterlife are wrong, but my main point when I started all this was that, this life is not just a means to an end. We are not here to do a bunch of good deeds in order to earn as many “God Points” as we can, or to be tested to see if we are good enough to get into heaven, or whatever. We were given this life to do something, we are given this life for a purpose. And we do a great disservice to the creator that gave us this opportunity, by not making the most out of, and enjoying, all of the gifts given to us. And that’s what I’ve learned from all this. You can’t waste time in this life doing what everyone else thinks you should be doing. You should be doing what you are supposed to be doing. And that’s what I’m going to start doing.”
“What is it you are supposed to be doing?”
“I’m not exactly sure, but I know some of the things I’m NOT supposed to be doing. I can also tell when I am doing something right because of the feeling I get. Like this. This conversation. This realization. I feel great about this. This is right.”
“If it’s so right, then how come you still seem so upset?”
“Because I miss my friend.”

Chapter 6 and Chapter 7

2008-04-24T18:01:00.002-04:00

CHAPTER 6

BEEDLE-DEEDLE-BEEDLE-DEEDLE-BEEDLE-DEEDLE!!!

That’s the sound of the phone ringing, pulling me out of a sound sleep on a Sunday morning. Well, ok, afternoon. I shuffle my way out to the kitchen, rubbing my eyes, and let out one final yawn before I pick up the receiver.

“Hello? Oh, hey Mom. No, that’s all right, I was gonna get up soon anyway. Sorry I didn’t call you this weekend, but with the party and everything… I got the message right before I went to work and deleted it. I forgot all about it when I got home. So what’s up?…Yeah….Yeah, I just saw him…what day was it? Thursday. He stopped by Thursday night. Yeah, he told me that’s why he couldn’t come to the party cuz he was going to Vermont for the weekend…why? WHAT!? HOW!? WHAT THE…Oh my God…When’s the wake? I’ve got classes that day but I can skip ’em. I’ll go to the earlier one and while I’m in Woonsocket, I’ll stop at home. Yeah, see you then. Love you, too. Bye.”

I slowly hang up the phone and go back to bed. I don’t sleep. I just lie there.

CHAPTER 7

The wake was…well, it was a wake. Stand in line, everyone’s crying, sorry for your loss. It’s weird, because no matter how sad you are, or how much you’re hurting because of the loss of friend, the assembly-line nature of the wake seems to desensitize you to it. Maybe that’s part of its purpose - to numb you. You spend so much time in this line, waiting for your turn to say this generic phrase (because what else can you say, really?). Then you stand around shooting the shit, either with people you don’t know, or people you haven’t seen since high school, the whole time wondering what the appropriate amount of time is to stick around afterwards.

I went home to my parents’ house after, and was greeted first by my Mom. As I walked in the door, she was getting up from the kitchen table where she was reading a book and having a cup of tea.

“Hey, Tim, how’s it going.” It was that not-quite-sure-how-to-greet-you kind of thing. “How’d the wake go?” she asks as she gives me a hug.
“OK.”
“His parents doing OK?”
“Yeah. As well as they can be.”
“You want some coffee?”
“Um…yeah. I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick.”
“Dad’s in there now. You almost done in there?”

By this point, my youngest sister is aware that I’m home and comes out to say “hi”.

“Hey, Tim.” She gives me a hug.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Nothin’”
“I’ll be in in a minute to see you, alright?”
“Alright.”

As I was taking my jacket off and putting it on the back of a chair at the kitchen table, my Dad came out of the bathroom.

“Hey,” I say, as I give him a hug.
“How’s it goin’?”
“Good.”

I finally get to the bathroom and as I go in and shut the door, I hear my Mom ask my Dad if he wants any coffee, but he says he’s all set.

I find my way to the sink without turning on the light, and stand there in the darkness. After a moment, I turn on the light over the sink, and stare at myself in the mirror. I take my glasses and watch off, and turn the cold water on. As the water is running, I continue to stare at myself in the mirror, only now I look blurry because my glasses are off. When the water is cold enough, I scoop some up and splash it on my face. I do this a couple more times, trying to wash away…I don’t know what. On the last time, I run my wet fingers through my hair, before shaking the excess water off of them, and turn the faucet off. I dry my hands and face before putting my glasses and watch back on. Now that I can see again, for some reason, I am unable to raise my eyes and look at myself in the mirror. I reach over and flip the light switch off.

I leave the bathroom, putting on a little smile so I don’t show how upset I am.

“You want a muffin? I just made some,” my Mom asks.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Have a seat, you’re coffee’s ready.”

I sit down at the table, and as I begin to pour a ridiculous amount of cream into my coffee, my Mom puts a muffin down on a napkin in front of me.

“Here you go.”
“Thank you.”

We start to talk, me reluctantly at first, but as I make my way through my coffee and muffin, I loosen up, and eventually end up trying to explain the Spider-Man clone saga to her.

“So…now it turns out, that the one that they thought was the clone, was actually the original one.”
“Jeez.“
“And now the one who really is the clone..is…like decides, he’s like, “OK I’m, Ya know, I’m just gonna go away,” and but then it turns…it’s…you’re gonna find out later on that he REALLY was the original one…and…”
“Now you lost me.”
“Yeah it’s…I lost myself.”
“Ha ha ha ha.”
“But, anyway..”
“Well, it makes it interesting.”
“Yeah.”
“We rented a movie, you wanna watch it?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah? O.K. I think you’ll like it.”

As we’re getting up to put our cups in the sink, one of my other sisters, the middle of the three, comes out of her room on the phone.

“OH! Um yeah, my brother’s here.”
“Well look who’s here.”
"Yeah, so I’m gonna see you tonight? Alright. Bye,” she says wrapping up her phone conversation. “Hey!” to me.
“How ya doin’?”
“Not too bad. How are you?”
“Good.”
“That’s good.”
“So, you gonna stick around for the movie, or are you cutting out?”
“Um, kinda got plans.”
“All right.”
“Later though.”
“O.K.” I tell my sister. “You can start the movie if you want, I’ll be in in a minute,” I tell my Mom.
“O.K.”

I go through the curtain into my youngest sister’s room (she doesn’t have a door), and greet her with a “Hey.”

“Hey.”
I give her another hug. “Wanna come watch a movie with us?”
“Sure, I’m just putting my pajamas on first.”
“Oh, O.K. Hurry up though, cuz Mom started it already.”
“O.K.”

I leave her room and walk back through the kitchen, heading for the parlor. I catch my sister as she’s leaving, so I stop to say bye to her.

“You leaving now?” I ask her.
“Yeah.”
“You’re goin’ to my concert though, right?”
“Yeah!”
“All right, I’ll see ya then.”
“All right.”
“Have fun tonight.”
“I will.”
“Be good.”
Reluctantly, “I will.”
“Ha ha…bye.”
“Bye.”

Once I make it into the parlor, I see the oldest of my sisters asleep on the couch.

“Ha ha. Look who’s here.” I sit on the arm of the couch so I can lean over her. “Hey”
“Mmm?”
“You sleepin’? Hm? You out partyin’ last night?”
“No, why do you keep asking me that?” She must have been having déjà vu.
“I didn’t ask you nothin’.
“Uuuugggghhh.,” she groans, then all of a sudden, turns her head to look up at me in a freaky sort of you-just-woke-me-from-sleep-walking kind of way. You know, when they’re awake, but they don’t know it and they won’t remember talking to you when they actually wake up.
“Ha ha ha, alright, go back to sleep.”
“Yeah,” she says sternly as she puts her head back down.

I get up off of the arm of the couch and head over to where my parents are in front of the TV. They are each sitting in their rocking chairs, and I go over to sit down in this mini futon, cushion thing in between them.

“All set?” my Mom asks.
“Yeah, let’s wait for…” I trail off and then yell for my youngest sister. “You comin’?”
“Yep!” she yells, and then a few seconds comes in, wearing her pajamas like she said.
“Ok, Dad, you can start it,” my Mom says.

My Dad hits play on the remote, and as the movie starts, my sister comes over and I let her sit on my lap, because she is still small enough to. However, she is big enough to almost tip over the seat.

“Whoa,” I say as I catch us from going completely over. We all have a little laugh, then get settled in and watch the movie.

When it’s done and we all come out of the zombie state, I yawn, stretch my arms and check my watch.

“Ugh, what time is it? Oh, that was longer than I thought. I gotta get goin’.” I still had about an hour drive ahead of me to get back to my house at school.
“Oh!” my Mom says as she checks her watch too.
“Alright. Uuuuhh,” I groan as I stand up and stretch my back. I turn to my Dad to give him a hug. “I’ll see you at the concert.”
“Ok.”
“Bye.”
“See ya later, take care.”
“You too. You coming out?” I ask my Mom.
“Yeah, I’ll go out.”

My Dad stays in his chair and changes the channel on the TV, putting one of his shows on. My Mom gets up and she and my sister follow me out to the kitchen. I get my coat off the back of the chair and as I put it on, my Mom asks,

“So, you all set for food and everything?”
“Yeah, I’m all set, I’ve got stuff that’ll last for a while.”
“Yeah? Ok. Alright, well, be careful driving back.”
“I will.”
“Take it easy,” she says as I give her a hug.
“You too. Love you.”
“Love you. Bye.”
“Bye.”
“When’s the next time I’m gonna see you?” my youngest sister asks as I give her a hug.
“Um, you’ll see me at the concert, right?”
“Yeah,” my Mom says.
My sister nods with a little smile on her face
“Ok, so not too long,” I reassure her. “Alright?”
“Alright,” she agrees.
“I’ll see you then.”
“Alright, take care,” my Mom says.
“Bye,” my sister says.
“Bye,” I say as I open the kitchen door and walk through it, shutting it behind me. I take a step, but then stop. Everything that I was able to put out of my mind in the last couple of hours comes rushing back in. My friend is gone. My head hangs as I make my way through the hall and out the door. I am not looking forward to the hour long drive, where I will be alone with my thoughts.

Chapter 5

2008-04-17T17:57:00.002-04:00

CHAPTER 5

The next morning I wake up to voices coming from the living room. Usually when we have parties, a bunch of people will crash at our place. If I went to bed before the party ended and didn’t know who had stayed over, I would listen to the voices the next morning and try to figure out who was still here. This was easy, because there were only three voices and I knew them very well: My roommate, his girlfriend and my best friend. I drag my ass out of bed and put on a pair of boxers (yeah, I sleep naked), and shuffle out into the living room.

“Well look who’s finally up,” my roommate says.
“Whaddaya mean ‘finally’? It’s only 11:30.”
“Dude, your party last night was AWESOME! I was dancing with that girl with the huge boobs (what’s her name?), then I was dancing with your cousin… It was awesome.”
“Cool man, I’m glad you had a good time. Hey it’s cool if you want to date my cousin.
“Dude, that’s your cousin!”

Me and my best friend decided we were going to go get coffee at my favorite doughnut place around the corner. They’re my favorite because theirs is the only coffee I like, even if the cups are covered with bible quotes. My roommate and his girlfriend stay at the house (probably to have sex, can’t say I blame them), which is good because we have some catching up to do. I throw on some pants, a shirt and my sandals and I’m ready to go. As we’re leaving, I notice that the light is blinking on the answering machine. I figure it’s a message from that weird girl whocalled last night, so I don’t bother checking it yet.

When we get there, I order my usual: a tank of French vanilla iced coffee, lots of cream, lots of sugar and less ice, and he gets milk. He loves milk. I grab a table next to the window, because even though my eyes are still squinty from the light, it’s a little chilly so the sun feels good.

“So were you serious about your cousin? I mean, if we started dating or whatever, I’m not saying we would, but if we did, you’d be cool with it?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I mean, I know you’re a good guy and you’re not going to intentionally try to fuck her over or be a dick to her, so why wouldn’t I be cool with it?”
“I don’t know, most people are weird about their friends dating family members and whatnot.”
“I don’t care. Hell I’ve told you that you can date any of my exes that you want, and that wouldn’t bother me either. When they’re an ex, they’re an ex. I don’t have any sort of territorial feelings of ownership over them.”
“Speaking of exes, at that party a while back, that was kind of a dick thing that you did.”
“What, I was wasted and happy that she came to the party so I made out with her.”
“Right in front of your ex…”
“Exactly, she’s my ex. It’s not like I was still with her and I cheated on her.”
“She was still really upset though.”
“I’m not saying she wasn’t. I mean, I do feel bad that she saw it, but I wasn’t going to not do it. I didn’t plan for it to happen, it just sort of came together like that and I reacted on instinct.”
“What about that other girl you invited?”
“I didn’t invite her. She was going to a concert that night, so I thought she wouldn’t show up and I would be in the clear. Someone else must have told her about the party and she came afterwards. It’s not my fault she showed up.”
“Yeah, but you were still seeing each other.”
“Not really, I mean we never had ‘the talk’.”
“What talk.”
“You know, the talk that defines the relationship or whatever it is. Where you both lay your cards on the table and see where things stand. That’s usually the point where all of a sudden things change and sometimes start to go downhill. We had just been hanging out every now and then, we hooked up a couple of times and that was it. Plus it was really awkward talking to her, and you know how important talking is to me. I felt like I had to entertain her all the time.”
“Well, you still should have told her that you didn’t want to see her anymore.”
“I told you, we weren’t seeing each other, because that was never established. If we have ‘the talk’ then that establishes something, which means for it to end, ‘we need to talk’. If there was no talk to establish anything, then there doesn’t need to be a talk to un-establish it, because there is nothing to un-establish.”
“I still think it was wrong.”
“It wasn’t wrong. I mean, it was not nice, I’ll give you that, but it wasn’t wrong.”
“So any new girls you’re scoping out, heart-breaker?”
“Very funny, but no, not really.”
“What about that one you made out with at that party, what about her?”
“She gradually lost interest in me once she found out I was a virgin and I wasn’t going to sleep with her.”
“What about doing other stuff?”
“I guess she wasn’t interested in the other stuff. Or maybe it was just me, I don’t know. Whatever.”
“What about that girl with the big boobs? (I keep forgetting her name) She seems like she might be interested in you, but you don’t give her much attention.”
“Nah, she’s not really my type.”
“Whaddaya mean, not your type?”
“She’s got brown eyes.?
“Man you and your rules! What’s the big deal with blue eyes?”
“I’m sorry, I just think brown eyes are boring. I’d much rather look at blue eyes.”
“Blue eyes are the Devil.”
“Oh come on don’t take it personally, I could look into your brown eyes all day, HAHA!”

By this point we are done our coffees and I have to get ready to go to work, so we head back to my house. While he’s gathering his stuff, I go grab a collared shirt that has been hanging up on a hook since I wore it on my last shift. I spray the armpits of the shirt with Febreeze, making it as good as new, put it on and button it.

“Aren’t you gonna tuck that in?”
“Why?”
“Never mind. Hey great party last night, as usual.”
“Thank you, thank you… we aim to please.”

On our way out, I notice the blinking message light again. I want to stall a little more before going to work, so I check it. It was my Mom saying she had to tell me something and to call her when I get a chance.

“She sounded kind of serious. You should call her back.”
“I’m gonna be late as it is. I’ll call her when I get home from work,” I tell him as I hit the erase button.
“See ya later, Dude”
“Later.”

Chapter 4

2008-04-11T02:32:00.002-04:00

CHAPTER 4

[The following chapter has been edited, due to explicit content. If you so desire to read the un-edited version, email me, and I will send it to you directly.]

PARTY TIME!! Oh thank God!! This is exactly what I need! Some drinking, some music, some dancing, some naked time… Oh yeah, by the way, you should probably know that I like to take my clothes off…A LOT. Starting I think when I was a freshman, I’ve been stripping at parties. It kind of started as a joke, but now it’s like tradition. [EDIT]

So anyway, (I keep doing that) about this party. My roommate had his computer connected to the stereo in the living room, so he could make a playlist that would run all night and we wouldn’t have to worry about CDs ending or whatever. He always did a good job of having a mix of dance, hip-hop, hardcore and old cartoon theme songs (he had downloaded the G.I. Joe, Thundercats, Carebares and Transformers themes that he would occasionally sneak in for nostalgia and shock value). The living room was designated for dancing, complete with blacklights and a lava lamp. The kitchen was usually most of the people who just got there and didn’t have the nerve quite yet to move to one of the other rooms and actually start to participate in the party…or people getting booze. We had a back room that was at the other end of the house and that was where most of the regular talking took place. It was far enough from the living room so that you didn’t have to shout in order to talk over the music. This room was also the only room with the lights on, while the rest of the house had appropriate mood lighting. There’s also a deck out back so people can get some air and cool off without being out front where cops would see. There were always good mixes of people too. I would invite my music major friends and friends from back home, my roommate was also friends with most of my music friends but he would also invite his friends from ambulance, and his girlfriend would bring her friends too. My Dad even came to a few. Oh yeah he was a hit. One time he even asked me if my sister was coming with any weed, and another time asked if anyone would have mescaline at the party! He wasn't at this one however.

So there’s drinking, music, dancing, laughing, lots of girls and some guys too. At one point, I’m in the kitchen drinking a beer and my roommate comes over to me, pretty drunk and a little concerned.

“Dude, there’s a bunch of people hanging out in your room,” he says.
“That’s cool. I know them all, they won’t fuck anything up or steal shit.”
“Yeah, but they’re not out socializing with everyone else.”
“There are plenty of people out dancing already, it was probably too crowded. Plus I’m sure they’ll come out eventually. Don’t worry. Here’s to a job well done.” I raise my beer bottle for a “cheers”.
After we clink bottles, his girlfriend comes over and puts her arm around him and gives him a kiss.
“I was wondering where you guys were. I should have known you’d be admiring your handy-work.”
We smile and nod our agreement to each other.
“So Tim, there are a lot of cute girls here,” she says. “Which one, or ones, do you have your eye on?”
“I’m ah… taking a little break.”

[EDIT]

“I think I’m gonna lay off the girls for a while.”
“Hey don’t wait too long,” my roommate said, “you don’t want to miss out on something.”
“Based on the last couple of times, I don’t think I’m “missing” much.”
“A couple of the girls back there looked interested. You should go talk to them.”
“Nah, they’re kind of boring and weird.”
“So what, you only have to put up with it for a little bit. You can probably get at least one of them to have sex with you.”
“I don’t want to have sex with either one of them.”
“Is this about you being a virgin? I told you, It’s different for guys. A guy’s first time doesn’t have to be special, It’s just something you have to get over with.”
“Thanks for the words of wisdom, but I don’t want to just get it over with…”
“I think it’s really sweet that you want to wait,” his girlfriend broke in.
“Why thank you, and thank you for your support.”
“Whatever, maybe the two of you can go buy tampons together now.”
Just then the phone rang and my roommate picked it up.
“Hello?” A big smile stretches across his face. “Yes, he’s right here. One moment please…” he covers the phone with his hand as he passes it to me, and in his best impersonation of an eighth grader says, “It’s a giiiirl!”
Trying to run through my head the list of who it could be, I take the phone and pause for a second before saying, “Hello?”
“Hello, Timothy.”
I pause, trying to figure out who it is but eventually I give up. “Who’s this?”
“Are you having fun at your party?”
“Uh, yeah?”
“It sounds like you’ve about had your fill of meaningless debauchery.”
“Um, sure.”
“You are almost ready for me then. However a few more things remain before I can come to you.”
“Right, of course.”
“You must remember to be strong in the coming weeks, and trust that what happens is for the best.”
“Oh, yes. It always is.”
“I will see you soon.”
“I look forward to it.”
As I hung up the phone, my roommate says, “Ah, so that’s why you’re flying solo tonight! You got some flayva on the side! How come you never tell me about these girls?”
“So what’s her name?” his girlfriend asks.
“I have no fucking clue.” They both stare at me, shocked and confused.
“Dude, you should fuck her!” my roommate says.
“I have no idea who that was! She knew my name and was saying all this stuff about me being ready and strong and seeing me soon.”
“Sounds like she’s going to deflower you.” his girlfriend said.
“You should DEFINITELY fuck her!”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

Just then my best friend comes over to get another drink out if the refrigerator. He comes over to us as he’s opening his beer.

“Lotsa lesbians out here tonight!” he says.
“Where’s the lesbians?” my roommate asks.
“Did you see the lesbians on the porch!?” he asks as he points over his shoulder with his thumb, his pinky half sticking up, making him look a little like a surfer.
“Dude, get those people, in the room, to get out!”
“Dude, I’s I fuckin’ saw ‘em in there, and I’m didn’t fuckin’ want a piece of that shit.”
“You gotta do somethin’ man,” my roommate says, and my best friend leaves to go dance.

“We should go do a sound check,” my roommate says.
“I’m going to go dance,” his girlfriend says.
“Ok, we’ll see you in there in a minute.”

We go out side, shut the door and stand out in the street for a couple of minutes listening. The reason why we have to do this is that, at one party I was very drunk, and Blind by Korn came on the stereo. My roommate made the mistake of leaving his karaoke mic plugged in. I run into the living room (which was empty by the way, I wasn’t performing for anyone else’s sake, this was for me), grab the mic, stand on the couch and start to sing along, scratch that, SCREAM along. “What if I should DIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEE!” My roommate comes running in telling me that I’m going to blow out his speakers, which of course, I become very proud of. About ten minutes later some of my friends get back from Cumberland Farms which is around the block and tell me that they could hear our music, all the way from there. And over that… me screaming. Again I am very proud of myself. Needless to say, within a half hour the cops showed up. They were actually very cool (one of them had pulled me over before for going 65 in a 30 when me and my roommate were going to Stop and Shop at three in the morning and let me off) and they gave us our warning about the noise and said that if they have to come back we’ll get arrested. So now at every party we do these sound checks. It’s basically a formality though, because as long as I’m not doing karaoke, we’re fine.

Once we decide we are comfortable with the volume level, we head around back to make sure the porch dwellers are enjoying themselves. Then we head back in, to check on the back-room group. After that appearance, we head back to the living room for dancing. By now Closer by Nine Inch Nails is playing and some of the guys and girls have their shirts off. We shrug and take our shirts off, and join the sea of skin in our living room. When my best friend sees me, he gives me his assessment of the current situation.

“There’s so much naked goin’ on in this house!”

No time like NAKED TIME!

Chapter 3

2008-04-03T19:59:00.002-04:00

CHAPTER 3

So it’s a couple of days later, I think it might be Thursday because my roommate wasn’t home. He volunteers on the ambulance at URI and every Thursday he had night team, where he stays there all night in case there are any calls. The funny part is that he used to make fun of people who were on the ambulance, Whackers, I think he used to call them. There was one kid who he said used to wear his stethoscope to class. One time someone asked him why he was still wearing it, and he said that he didn’t even notice because he was so used to having it on. Peacock. Then all of a sudden my roommate joins and he ends up really liking it. I didn’t knock him for it (too much), but then he tried to get me to join too. He said it would be good for my resume and this and that, but it just wasn’t something I wanted to do. My Dad was even an EMT, so you would think it was in my blood, but I had other plans for my life (or maybe my life had other plans for me).

So anyway, Thursday night, roommate not home. I’m in the living room, sitting on the couch, doing my Latin homework on a TV tray, so of course I’m miserable. You’re probably wondering why I keep whining about Latin. I’ll explain why it’s the bane of my existence. If you’ve ever taken Spanish or French or maybe other languages, you know how all of the verbs have different conjugations so that they agree with the subject. So for every verb, there is like six other versions of that word you have to know. For the most part these versions follow a pattern which is easy to remember, but a great amount of them are irregular and have their own version that you have to memorize separately. In Latin there are conjugations, but you also have different forms of the nouns as well called declensions. So not only do you have to know all of the verb forms and make them agree, you also have to know all of the noun forms and make them agree! So if I’m translating an entire paragraph from English to Latin, I have to look through my note cards to see if it is a vocab word, if not I have to look it up in the glossary and get the Latin word, then look in the book to see if it is irregular so I know how to do the conjugation or declension, then back to my note cards to see how to change the word, then write the word in my notebook. And repeat…translation book, to note cards or glossary, to book, to note cards, to note book, ad infinitum. (Haha, get it? That’s Latin.) Oh yeah, and in Latin the word order is even more backward than Spanish, the subject is like at the end of the sentence “to create suspense,” so when I’m trying to piece a sentence together, the words are getting put in this seemingly random order and I have to try to leave room in-between all the words. God just thinking about it irritates me, writing it down even more so. I bet you’re getting irritated just reading about it. That’s the point - FEEL MY PAIN!

This time I didn’t have as much patience as before, so after a half an hour or so (I probably got only one sentence done in that time), I gave up. This came complete with the dramatic throwing of the pen, slamming the book shut and flopping back on the couch. I sit looking at the ceiling for a moment wondering why after four-plus years as a Music Composition student, this is what I’m spending a great majority of my time on. I should be composing music and nothing but. Isn’t that why I came to this school? I’ve got all of these ideas swimming around in my head all the time, but I don’t get a chance to do anything with them. I’ve even got this one big idea where I want to compose these pieces for orchestra and chorus based on books of the Bible, specifically, Genesis, the Passion and Revelation. Maybe I will even turn it into a musical or an opera or maybe even a movie. Not to mention all of the little ideas I get that I would like to experiment with. But no, this is what I’m doing instead.

I decide that I will allow myself a little break for some recreational reading before I start up again. I usually have a book with me at all times, just in case I’m really bored somewhere, I’ll have something to do. I settle in, get comfortable and crack it open, but I’m not even halfway through one page when I hear the screen door open. I crane my neck to try to see who it is. I figure it’s probably our neighbor who knows my Dad and my landlord from the Woonsocket Hospital where he works. He’ll just let himself in, and one time he even walked in while my roommate was changing, another time while he was “being intimate” with his girlfriend on the couch. I hear a knock which means it’s not him, so I mark my page, put my book down and get up to go answer the door. I’m curious now because I don’t get many random visitors. As I come into the kitchen and I have a more clear line of sight, I am able to make out the face that’s peeking in the window grinning at me and I chuckle. It’s one of my old friends from high school, probably the only one I still talk to, and he goes to grad school at URI. I unlock the door to let him in.

“What’s goin’ on, kid?” I ask as we grab hands.
“What’s goin’ on!?” he asks as we launch into that half-hand-shake-half-hug thing guys do. I call it a “man-shake”.
“How’re ya doin?” complete with a snap at the end.
“Not too bad thanks, yourself?” he says with this mock sophistication that is part of his personality. He’s hilarious.
“I’m awesome.” He’s wearing this red sweater that reminds me of these red shorts he used to wear with an orange shirt back in high school.
“Alright, good to see ya.” he says as he closes the door.
“You wanna come sit down? Can you stay for a minute?”
“Well I’d like to sit down, but I just had some hot wieners tonight. Not too sure about that, but let’s try.”
“Alright let’s see how ya do.”
“Alright.”

We go into the living room and I start to pack up my Latin.

“Let me just get some of this shit out of the way.”
“Oh, I wasn’t interrupting you bro, was I?”
“No, I was doing my Latin homework, and I was getting pissed off anyway.”
“You sure, man?”
“I had stopped to take a break anyway, I was just reading.”
“You know me, I’m a simple man! Don‘t wanna interfere here!” he says as he clenches and opens his hands in front of him, doing one of his favorite impersonations of a social studies teacher at our old high school.
“Oh no don’t even worry about it.”
We sit, but then I realized that I was being a bad host.
“You want a drink or something?”
“Ya know man, actually, my throat’s a little dry, and you know, I don’t know if you got any hard stuff.”
I give him a double take.
“No, I’m only kidding, but I told you I had those wieners right and I had a Coca-cola Classic. I’m drinking it, and the next thing you know, my stomach starts turning and all that stuff. So then I had an Awful Awful, the chocolate one. You can get chocolate and strawberry mixed together: bad scenario…”
“Uugghh.”
“…bad scenario, not feeling too good. I could go for some water if you have any.”
“Alright, yeah I’ll get you some water.”
“That’ll be awesome. I’ll come with you.”
“All right.”

We go into the kitchen and I pour us each a cup of water from the tap and hand him one.

“Ah I see you’re breaking out the good stuff for the company,” he says.
“Nothing but the finest for you my friend, this is Narragansett Spring water you’ve got there, almost as good as Woonsocket water.”
“Almost as good as Woonsocket water the key phrase my friend.”
“Ah, Woonsocket.”
“Well, Woonsocket is a City on the Move.”
“That it is.”
“You know, the mayor of Woonsocket is a nice lady.”
“You’re right. I wouldn’t want to fuck her…but she’s a nice lady.”
“Is that the type of society we live in, where a woman is judged by her looks, instead of merit?” he asks sarcastically.
“Yes…yes it is,” I reply, honestly, but with a hint of humor.
“Yeah, you’re right…she is ugly.”
“I’ll drink to that.”
“Woonsocket water…mmmm,” He says as he lifts the cup to his mouth. He’s holding it with two hands like a child, with all of his fingers wrapped around the entire glass, and starts to drink, sorry, gulp the water.

Then an odd thing happens. It must have had something to do with the wieners and the Coke and the Awful Awful, and now adding this Narragansett equivalent of the water we grew up on. Maybe some of his tasty beverage went down the wrong pipe and he started to choke. In mid gulp, he projectile vomits into his cup! Like what the hell!? Who does that!? Only this guy. It was probably the funniest thing I’ve ever seen, and I wish that I had caught it on video tape!

He runs off to the bathroom and I stay behind, kind of in shock because of what just happened, but not so much so that I can’t still laugh my ass off. After a minute or so, I follow him in to see if he’s OK.

When I go in there, he’s crouched down on his haunches leaning over the toilet. “Oh my God…Holy shit…” he says as he stands up and leans against the wall with both hands like he’s getting arrested. (This whole time I’m giggling like a little girl.) Then he spits, does a post-puke burp and spits again. “Oh my God…That’s gross…Dude this is NASTY…Look at that!” and he points to the cup on the bathroom sink, 1/3 of it water, then on top of that, 1/3 frothy wiener vomit. “Narragansett tap water…crap!” He flushes the toilet and starts to recover, as I’m wiping the tears from my eyes and settling down. I go back to the living room so he can clean up. I lay down on the couch and let the last few chuckles out, my sides and stomach hurting. Man did I need that after the day I was having.

After he’s done cleaning up he comes into the living room, I sit up and he sits next to me.

“You wanna watch a movie?” I ask him.
“No, I can’t. I gotta get up early tomorrow to get some work done before classes. Ugh, It’s getting ridiculous.”
“I hear ya. It’s like me with Latin,” I say. “At least we’ll get to hang out at my party!”
“Yeah! When is it?” he asks.
“This weekend…well, Friday… tomorrow.”
“Oh, Dude…I‘m going to be away this weekend.”
“Whaaaaaat!?”
“Yeah, me and my baby are going to Vermont.”
“Awwww, kid, you’re killin’ me!”
“We’ve had this trip planned for a while now.”
“But we haven’t had a party in a long time. Plus, remember what happened last time, when you didn’t come?” (it’s a long story.)
He drops his head a little, “Do I detect some hostility?”
I suddenly grab him by the shoulders and bug my eyes out, “Maybe just a bit!” Then I let go, “Nah I’m just givin’ ya a hard time. You go have fun in Vermont.”
“Thanks, man. I’ll make sure I’m here for the next one, I promise.”
“Alright, deal. Hey, do you have at least a little while, to sit and chat?”
“Yeah I can stay for a bit.”
“Cool.”

We catch up for the next 45 minutes or so, discussing everything from school to girls to politics to religion, as we usually do when we haven’t seen each other in a while. Then at out next lull, he gets up.

“Well, it‘s getting‘ kinda late.”
I look at my watch. “Yeah, it is. I’ll let you get goin’ Buddy.”
“Yeah thanks a lot, Pal.”
“I should probably get back to my Latin homework anyway. I’ll walk you out.”

As we head to the kitchen the phone rings.

“Let me just answer this real quick,” I say as I pick up the phone. “Hello?” I wait for a minute and don’t hear anything and instead of saying ‘Hello’ again, I just hang up.
“Who was that?” he asks.
“I don’t know, no one answered. Probably a telemarketer though.”
“What makes you say that?”
“When telemarketers call they wait for you to say ‘Hello’ a second time before they start talking. I think it’s to make sure it isn’t an answering machine. So I only say hello once. If no one responds, I hang up. It saves me a lot of time.”
“Huh, I’ll have to try that.”
“It’s a little tricky because you first instinct will be to just spit out ‘Hello’ again, so you have to think and be ready.”
“Well, Buddy, it was good talking to you, as always.”
“Yeah, you too, man. I hope your stomach is feeling better.”
“It is, thank you, Sir. Have fun at your party. Sorry I won’t be here.” He puts his hand out and we “man-shake” again.
“Hey don’t even worry about it. Next time. You guys have fun in Vermont.”
“We will. You know what they say about Vermont, right?”
“…No.”
“Me neither.”
“O.K. good. Well you give ‘em something to say about Vermont.”
“I will, I will. They want my skills…they get the full package!” (Whatever that means!?!?)
“Alright, drive careful.”
“You take care. Good luck with Latin.”
“Alright, thanks. I’ll see ya’ soon, Buddy.”
“See ya’ Buddy.”
“Later.”
“Goodnight.”

I shut and lock the kitchen door after he leaves. It was really good seeing him and he definitely put me in a better mood. However, now I feel a sinking feeling as I head back into the living room to try to finish my Latin homework before sunrise.

Chapter 2

2008-03-28T22:05:00.004-04:00

CHAPTER 2

So I finally get home at like eleven or twelve, and as I walk in I hear a car engine revving and a horn blaring. This means only one thing - my roommate is playing Driver for Play Station - one of our favorites. Now let me explain this game to you. Most people, when they play this game, will play it the right way and try to actually progress through the game…not us. Our goals when we play are to see who can make the coolest wreck and/or flip the car, who can get the most cops after them and avoid them the longest, who can find jumps and make the car go flipping through the air, and if you’re really lucky, and this is rare, get caught in the scenery of the game because there’s some sort of glitch. Oh yeah, and you are supposed to wail the horn as much as possible. It probably doesn’t sound like it makes much sense, but oh man, at three in the morning it’s pure bliss! The scary part is that there were times when, after playing till all hours of the morning, I would be driving to class and see a cop on the side of me. As God as my witness I almost instinctively jacked my wheel so I would crash into him in an attempt to drive him off the road, maybe into a telephone pole, and start the chase. Luckily the part of my brain that cares about not going to jail kicked in and stopped me in the nick of time. I don’t blame it on the game though like most parents and crazy people do…I think it’s unsafe to be driving to class before noon.

So I go into the living room to see how he’s “progressing.”

“What’s up?” I ask as he pauses to wipe the sweat off his hands.
“What’s goin’ on, dude?” After some honking, “How was your day?”
“Sucked.”
“Oh yeah?”
“What’d you do?”
“I’ve been playing Driver all day.”
“Nice.”
HONK!HONK!HONK!HONK!HONK!HONK!“Cool man.”HONK!

I stay and watch for a little while longer, then head to my room to start my homework. Now remember I said I was a Music Major? Yeah well, tonight anything music related will be last on my list. Instead it’s Latin. I know, I know, “why did you choose Latin? Why not just do something easy like Spanish or French?” I already took Spanish in high school, so if I did it in college I would have to take a more advanced class, because I’m supposed to already know some. Too bad for me I’ve had a four year lag in between to forget everything (not that I really learned anything to begin with). French just makes me mad because sooooo many of the letters are silent. Plus whenever I think of “French” I think of French-Canadian senior-citizens who combine French and English, or creepy French men hitting on dumb American girls. So I’d either feel like a sixty-year-old or a pervert. Plus I think music should count as a second language. That one I can read, write and speak fluently, probably better than English (At least I pronounce my R’s). I was actually interested in Latin. I liked that it was a dead language that many of the others stemmed from and it has a timelessness to it. I was also fond of Gregorian Chant and was interested in incorporating it into my music somehow, so I thought this would be a good way to get very familiar with it. Yeah right! This was the hardest class I have ever taken…EVER! That was the only time in my life that I felt stupid. I know I’m not stupid but Latin did a number on me. I would spend hours doing a simple translation. I guess it wasn’t what I thought it would be.

So I’m in my room getting ready to start my Latin. I’m sitting on my bed, I’ve got my notebook, my note cards, which have key vocab words on them, my textbook, which has other information key to correct grammar translation, ant the translation book that has the story in it that I’m supposed to translate. This is all spread around me in a semi-circle so I have easy access to all of it. I get to work, still hearing the horns and revving engines from Driver in the next room.

At one point I notice there is silence which must mean that he paused the game because his girlfriend is here and he has to let her in. I hear the muffled greeting in the kitchen and I get jealous. Why don’t I have a girlfriend that will come visit me? I guess it is my fault though. My last girlfriend I pushed away until she broke up with me, which I have to say I wasn’t too disappointed with. I had a good time being single after that, I had a decent amount of hook-ups, both random and old stand-bys. I guess every now and then I miss the closeness of actual human contact (beyond the “human contact” of partially naked bodies I mean). I guess it wouldn’t have been so bad though if I was doing something other that Latin. If I was working hard composing my Magnum Opus, maybe it wouldn’t bother me so much…

As they move to the hallway and then into the living room, I start to actually hear what they are saying.

“How far did you get?” she asks about his progression in the game.
“You don’t get anywhere, you just play…and crash things.”

RRREEEEEVVVVV!HONK!HONK!HONK!HONK!MMMMMMM!!! And that’s Driver. He goes right back to playing and every now and then I hear his signature “HONK! HONK!HONK!HONK! HONK! ….. HONK! HONK!” (Shave and a haircut, honk, honk), and them laughing at the pandemonium. I continue with my Latin while he plays for about another half hour or so, then I hear it become silent again, so I listen.

“What to go see if Tim wants to watch a movie?” she asks (how sweet of her)
“Not really.” he says (I know he’s just kidding, or he just really wants to keep playing)
“Come on.”
“I’m just kidding.” (see)
“I’m getting sick of watching you play this. Go see if he wants to watch a movie.”
“All right, let’s go do that work, man.” (it’s an Italian mobster thing, don’t ask)

I go back to work, pretending like I didn’t just hear that he was coming in to ask me if I wanted to watch a movie, and I notice what a mess my stuff has become. My stack of note cards is now a pile, I lost my place in the book, I can’t remember which point in the translation I’m at (I think I’m about one quarter of the way through) and my notebook page is half torn out of the spiral from turning the page back and forth so many times.

“What’s goin’ on, man?”
“What’s up?”
“Wanna come watch a movie with us?”
“No, I can’t. I got WAY too much shit to do.”
“Latin?”
“Yup. It fuckin’ sucks, like I can’t even like work on my music or anything, I gotta just fuckin’ work on this shit, ALL the time!”
“That’s URI for ya’”
“This and work, that’s it.”
“All right, Dude.”
“Well have fun.”
“Yup.”

He goes back into the living room and I listen.

“Hey, what did Tim say? Does he wanna watch?”
“Oh, no he can’t watch, he’s got too much work.”
“He works too hard.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, do you know what you wanna watch?”
“Uuuuummm, let’s watch this.”
“Okay.”

I hear them getting the movie started and him tapping on his legs (he’s a drummer too), and I can tell that the light in the living room has gone off because it isn’t coming into my room anymore. They are probably snuggling under a blanket on the couch, when I hear the opening music to one of our favorite movies to watch together…and then I go back to doing Latin.

They have a very cute relationship. They have their ups and downs like any other couple, but over all they get along really well. They’ve been together for about three years now, since sophomore year, sometime during marching band season (yes, we’re all band geeks, but cool band geeks). He’s one of the few guys I know, maybe the only one, who puts his friends before his girlfriend. They do get alone time and do romantic things, but he’s not that guy who disappears when his girlfriend comes over. A lot of times, the three of us hang out all together, and it seems to work out pretty well: I’m used to being a third wheel and don’t mind it. She and I have kind of become friends too. There are even some times when she will come over and if my roommate has work to do, she and I will hang out. One time, for fun, we made a list of all the girls I’ve kissed and hooked up with (I’d say it was about average). Sometimes the two of us just need to vent to each other, because there are things that only the two of us understand.

I’m still working on Latin long after the movie finishes and they’ve gone to bed (It was late, even for me). I finally drift off to sleep at some un-godly hour, probably close to sunrise, but at least it was still dark out. All of a sudden the phone starts to ring. I snap awake, all freaked out because I was in that place half-way between dreaming and reality. You know, when you feel like you’re falling and all of a sudden, BAM you hit bottom and wake up. I wasn’t sure at that point if the phone really rang or if I had dreamt it, so I just laid there panting. The phone rang again, so now I knew it was real. I shot up to go answer it, my mind racing wondering who it could be, if something was wrong. I make it into the kitchen and then trip over the recycle bucket as I pick up the receiver.

“Hello?” I ask half asleep and disoriented.
“Hello, Timothy,” a sultry woman’s voice.
“Who the fuck is this?”
“I’ve been watching you.”
“What!?”
“I can’t wait to finally meet you in person…and I bet you can’t wait to meet me either.”
“Whatever.”

I slam down the receiver and head back to my room. When I’m at my door, about to go in, my roommate peeks his head out of his room.

“Who the hell was that?”
“Some bitch.”
“Great. G’night.”
“Night.”

Foreword and Chapter 1

2008-03-20T15:11:00.006-04:00

FOREWORD

My name is Tim Girard.

Beginnings are always difficult. The end is easy, either because it’s the most recent and it’s still fresh in your memory, or it’s the most exciting or interesting. Chances are, it’s what happens in the end that makes you want to tell the story to begin with. The beginning is just all the exposition crap you have to go through, just so you can justify what happens in the end. Beginnings are boring and full of unrecognizable foreshadowing that only makes sense in retrospect. Most of the beginning I don’t even want to try to remember because it pales in comparison to what was eventually to come.

Is my story even worth telling? I think so. I think that what I have become and why will be very significant in the near future, so it’s important to know how I got here. Maybe it’s just out of loneliness. This could be the result of not having anyone to really talk to for a long time. An attempt at appealing to a larger audience in the hope that someone out there has seen what I’ve seen and know what I know. Then I won’t feel that time was wasted. Maybe one of you is looking for what I am looking for and like me you’ve thought you’ve found it countless times, only to realize you are now even more lost than before.

Oh well, the only way to begin is to begin…

BOOK I

CHAPTER 1

My story starts like most other days for me: I was running late for class. I was a Super Senior (fifth year) at the University of Rhode Island working towards a Music Composition degree and I lived off campus. I was on Route 1 north, waiting at the stoplight to turn left onto 138 west and time seemed to stand still. That must be what it would be like if you were conscious while you slept, to be sitting still for a long period of time with no discernable way to tell just how much time has gone by. Don’t get me wrong, I was checking my watch constantly, but I think time moves differently when you are sitting still. Finally the light turns green, but apparently no one in front of me is in as big of a hurry as I am. Plus you’d be surprised how many people forget that “GREEN” means ”GO”.

Now the drive along 138 has the potential to be a very beautiful enjoyable ride, but not when you are late for your 1 o’clock class (that’s right, I overslept for a 1 o’clock class, that’s me, deal with it). It’s fall and there are lots of trees all along both sides of the road, so the colors are stunning…not to me, not today. I am able to relax a little however when I’m able to pick up some speed and cruise along at a fairly reasonable amount over the speed limit. That is until, for no apparent reason, the car in front of me suddenly brakes and slows to a speed well below the speed limit requiring me to slam on my brakes and join his pointless deceleration. Oh, and just a side note, my car, a 1980 Buick Skylark, had been dead for some time so I was driving my parents’ Dodge Ram Van. So that’s a lot of extra weight to bring to a crawl. This slower speed also gave all my frustration that I left behind a chance to catch up with me, as well as adding the anxiety of almost hitting the car. I check my watch again, like knowing what time it is will help get me there faster, and think out loud how I would like to know what it is like to be on time for this class.

After what seems like an unnecessarily long amount of time, and another slow light, I’m in the home stretch. I turn right onto the back road behind campus, stop and rush through the stop sign, turn left, race the engine and then turn right into the parking lot behind the Fine Arts Center (from here on affectionately referred to as the FAC) and…the van stalls. Oh, I’m not kidding, apparently if you are going fast and then turn and decelerate at the same time she doesn’t like that and goes into total shutdown, which includes the power steering and power brakes. So here I am, late for class, standing on the brakes and pulling the wheel with all my might, so I don’t smash into the car that’s leaving the parking lot as I’m trying to enter it. Once I am able to regain control, stop and restart the van, now it’s time to zip (and when you’re talking about a van ‘zip’ is a relative term) up and down the aisles looking for a spot. Now here’s the thing with the FAC parking lot: it’s usually full. At this point everyone has already parked and gone to class for this hour, or has already left from their class that ended last hour, so because I’m late, I’m probably S.O.L. What’s that you say? “Maybe if you didn’t come so late you would have a spot.” Here’s the thing, if I got here on time, I would be fighting with everyone else who has a class this hour for a spot, in addition to the traffic of everyone leaving, both vehicular and pedestrian. Oh, you think you still have the answer do you? “If you come early, you can beat the rush.” Oh my God you are so smart, why didn’t I think of that!? Oh wait, I did. If you get here too early, the lot is full because everyone has already parked and gone to class for this hour, or has already left from their class that ended last hour. (Does it sound like I’m repeating myself? It irritates me as much as it does you, believe me.) It’s this vicious cycle and the only answer is to actually have enough parking spots for everyone who goes to your school. Sorry, I digress.

So I’m frantically looking for a spot and eventually I find one waaaaay in the back. I now go through my routine of unbuckling my seatbelt, putting the car in park, rolling up the window, turning off the engine and taking out the key grabbing my bag off the seat, opening the door and locking it, jumping out, and then shutting the door all in one fluid motion. It’s really quite beautiful actually, like a ballet. Now it’s time to check my watch again (to tell you the truth, I don’t know the purpose of this) as I mad dash at top speed across the parking lot to the FAC.

I get to the door yank it open and run through making an almost immediate left as some of my friends call to me but I tell them I can’t talk I’m late for class but ask them if they’re coming to the party at my house on Friday they say yes I’m still running and around the next left more people yell to me and I remind them about the party as I run down the ramp I grab the handle to the door on my right and pull expecting it to open but it sticks and doesn’t open and that hurts my shoulder but I give another hard pull and it gives so I yank it open and lunge through it and bolt up the stairs three at a time my shoes squeaking to the door and grab the doorknob and…nothing.

The door is locked. So now, instead of sneaking in quietly, I have to knock on the door, and disrupt the class, alerting everyone to my tardiness. By the way, this isn’t some big lecture class you can sneak in the back of and the professor doesn’t know you. It’s a classroom with less than twenty students, and it’s a music class, so the professor definitely knows me. There’s nothing else I can do so I suck it up and knock as quickly and quietly as possible. The student sitting closest to the door opens it for me and I come in with my head hanging low, still hoping that maybe no one will see me. Yeah. No such luck. All eyes are on me. I finally meet the gaze of my professor.

“Sorry,” I say as I make my way to an empty seat.
“Mister Girard,” He looks at his watch, “You know it is quarter after already.”
“I know, I’m sorry,” I slip into the chair.
“This is the third time you realize.”
“I…Uh…Never again,” as I start to unzip my bag but the zipper sticks.
“Well I’m counting on it.”
“Sorry,” still tugging at the zipper.
He holds his gaze a little longer, then, “So, where was I? Oh, yeah…”

He goes on with his lecture as I yank the zipper and it opens, spilling most of my stuff onto the floor. I scramble to get everything I don’t need for this class back into my bag and find the right notebook so I won’t get any more behind in the notes.

After class I take a minute to organize my things that I crammed into my bag. A few students were waiting to talk to the professor, so I knew I would be safe from another disappointed look. I finally sneak out and head down the stairs and out the door back to the van. Next it’s time for me to drive half an hour to work at the Warwick Mall Structure, where in addition to cashing people out, I had to endlessly fold clothes (now I know how my mom felt), and pretend like these clothes make me, and everyone that wears them, a better person. Now don’t get me wrong, I did like the clothes, that’s why I started working there. I guess it’s probably like this with all retail jobs, but I’m still confused as to why, I was required to be a whore. But, it was a job and being a college student doesn’t leave many opportunities outside of retail, and there are worse jobs.

And everyone needs money, right?

Coming soon: Tim Girard's "The Path I. Genesis"

2008-03-13T15:01:00.001-04:00

So I’ve decided to start putting my book on here. I will do one chapter roughly once a week. I figure this will keep me working at it, but a little at a time. I probably won’t put the entire thing on here, just enough so that you’ll still want to buy it when it gets published, haha! I’m going to take a week to start cleaning it up, then begin posting it. YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!

Bedtime Story

2007-03-19T00:31:00.000-04:00

"Daddy?"
"Yes Sweetie?"
"Will you tell me the story of when the sun used to rise in the east?"
"Sure. You like that one don't you?"
"Yeah, it's my favorite."
"Not too long ago, the sun used to rise in the east and set in the west, instead of what it does now. Back then people were very confused about life and why we are here."
"They didn't know about love?"
"They thought they did, but theirs was a very different kind of love. Most of the time when people said, "I love you," it meant, "I need you," or "I'm afraid of losing you."
"But how can they need someone or lose someone if we are all one?"
"They didn't know that we are all one back then."
"Why not?"
"Because back then, people were stuck on the wheel of karma, and they kept making the same mistakes and never evolved."
"That's sad."
"Yes it is, but it was all part of the journey that brought us here."
"Tell me about governments."
"There were governments that would make rules for the people to follow, and if the people didn't follow them, they would be punished."
"Where did the governments come from?"
"The people put them there."
"Why did the people need to be told what to do? Couldn't they think for themselves?"
"Back then most people were very afraid that other people would do things to them that they wouldn't like, so the governments had things called armies that would scare people in far away places so they wouldn't come here and do bad things to us."
"Why do we fight with people in far away places?"
"Because some people used to think that everyone should live the way that they do, so they would try to force other people to live their way."
"Using the governments and armies?"
"Yup. And the whole time, they didn't realize that by hurting someone else, they were only hurting themselves."
"Because we're all one?"
"Exactly, Angel."
"Tell me about the machines."
"Well, when people wanted to go far they had to drive in these things called cars that would move faster and take them there. When they wanted to go really far, especially if they had to go over the ocean, they would go in these big machines with wings called planes."
"Why couldn't people move fast or fly without these machines?"
"Because people didn't know how to harness the energy and use it themselves, they needed the machines to do it for them."
"Just like how they couldn't make light unless they had a lamp?"
"You got it."
"What was it like when the change happened?"
"It was very dark and very still. Then...BANG! The sky lit up and everything was crazy. All the planes came crashing down and cars crashed all over the place because they stopped working."
"Because all the energy that was trapped in the machines was freed?"
"Right again."
"What did everybody do?"
"Well, most of the people were very scared because they didn't know how to live without all those machines so it meant that their lives would be very different. Plus back then people lived for less than a hundred years, so it was hard for any one of them to understand the big picture. But people like me and your mother and your aunts who were alive back then, weren't afraid. We knew how to work with the energy and we knew that it was a change for the better, that it was the start of something wonderful. Especially because I knew that I couldn't bring you into the old world, and once the change had happened, it meant that soon you would come to us. Once we left the people of the old world behind, your mother and I knew we could finally bring you into this world."
"Is that why you're so old?"
"Ha ha ha! Am I that old?"
"Well, you're the oldest person I know."
"I'm the oldest person I know too! That's because the year I was born there were very few of us. Around the time Auntie Pam was born there were a lot more, and there were more and more ever since."
"What happened to the people of the old world? Did they die?"
"I'm sure there are some left. When we left them behind, they were still here, it's just that we are at a higher frequency than they were so we couldn't see them and they couldn't see us."
"Was anyone you know left behind?"
"Oh yes. Almost all of my friend and our family was left behind."
"Is that why all my cousins live with us?"
"Yes. Everyone that lives here with us is all that's left of the people I knew."
"Do you ever miss the others?"
"Oh yes, but they are happier where they are and couldn't live here. And I'm happier here and couldn't live there."
"Don't worry Daddy, we'll all be together again some day."
"Thank you, Sara, you're right."
"What do you think they did when they were left behind?"
"Probably tried to rebuild the world the way they remembered it. Probably had this big "battle between good and evil" that their religions foretold."
"What were the religions for again?"
"Religion was a way of making God into a thing that was out in space, far away from us, that made up rules that we had to follow and if we didn't, we would be punished."
"Like a government?"
"Yeah, I guess it does sound a lot like a government."
"How come they didn't know that we are all God, and God is not something "out there", but "in here"? Didn't anyone tell them?"
"Oh yes, lots of us tried. I think they were afraid. I there was no God "out there" who would take care of them, who could they blame if something happened that they didn't like?"
"Didn't they know that everything happens for a reason?"
"Some did, but not at the level that we do. They thought it meant that the god "out there" has a plan for us."
"They didn't know that we choose our path before we are born?"
"It was harder for them to remember. Their frequency was a lot lower than ours so they couldn't access the information."
"It must have been so hard for them!"
"It was. But it was all necessary to get where we are today."
"YAWN...I know."
"Are you ready to sleep?"
"Yeah..."
"Ok, I'll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams."
"I love you, Daddy."
"I love you, Saraswati."
"I'm glad I picked you."
"I'm glad you picked me, too."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, my little Goddess. Namaste."

On The Path

2007-03-19T00:30:00.000-04:00

When you are on your Path,

It is not the road you walk on that is important:
Do not look down.

It is not what lies behind you that is important:
Do not look back.

It is not what lies in front of you that is important:
Do not look ahead.

It is where you are, on your Path that is important:
Look around…

Recent

2007-03-19T00:27:00.000-04:00

Now you'll see my more up to date work, as well as anything new I write from now on. There isn't a lot right now, but trust me, there will be more.

Mirror

2007-03-19T00:25:00.000-04:00

A man who makes a mirror sees his own reflection in it.
If he shows that mirror to anyone else, they see their own reflection.

The purpose of a mirror is not to see the image of its creator,
But for the ones who view it to see their own images looking back at them.

The difference is that the creator of the mirror realizes the need to see himself,
And everyone else benefits by in turn being able to see themselves.

Light and the Darkness

2007-03-19T00:23:00.000-04:00

In the Darkness I cannot see,
I need Light to find my Path.

Others try to shine their light on me to help me find my way,
But the brighter they shine their lights, the darker my shadow becomes.

If I wish to part the Darkness I must shine my own light to see by,
But I must be careful of how bright I shine.

Just as in the absence of Light:
In the absence of Darkness, I am also blind.

Quinn’s Flying Machine

2007-03-19T00:20:00.000-04:00

Oh God, I’m fucked.

I was put on this new type of plane. After take-off, they shut down the engines, and it is supposed to keep flying, only it’s “flying” into the ground! We’re crashing and I’m the only one on board who realizes it. Because we haven’t hit the ground yet, everyone else actually thinks it’s flying. I didn’t even want to be on this plane! They told us all after we got on board and were in the air that it was a prototype and we were the lucky bunch that gets to try it…then they turned off the engines. The rest of the passengers and crew think it’s working wonderfully. After I realized it was crashing I mentioned it to a few people: they weren’t interested. I ran up and told the attendants: they wouldn’t hear it. Then I got really upset, but I couldn’t go tell the pilots. They were too busy “flying” and since no one else had a problem but me, they couldn’t be bothered. I asked out of desperation if I could have a parachute. Let me jump out and everyone else can go on “flying.” They told me it was impossible, the doors are locked, and they can’t open them just for me. I was told to go back to my seat to relax and enjoy the “flight.” You know what though? I’m calm now, I’m accepting my fate. And what comforts me is the fact that everyone on this plane will die because of their ignorance and blindness. I welcome the crash, I WANT IT!

Well we’re about 100 feet from the ground now and everyone finally realizes what is about to happen…

I’m tired of being right all the time

Mathilda: The Professional

2007-03-19T00:18:00.000-04:00

Mathilda is hanging upside down in her closet doing sit-ups. There is a knock at the door, it is her friend Noel. Noel asks her if she is up yet, and if she is going to breakfast. Mathilda says, “one minute”, finishes her sit-ups, jumps down, then answers the door. Mathilda invites Noel in and comments on how she is early. Noel says she couldn’t sleep. (Noel is a quiet girl, but today she is unusually so.) They engage in small talk while Mathilda gets ready. (She puts on her choker, and then puts on round sunglasses in the mirror.) Then the two of them leave for the cafeteria.

The two of them wait in line and get their food (Mathilda gets lots of milk), then go sit down at an empty table where no one else joins them. They engage in still more small talk and Mathilda finally notices how quiet Noel is. She tries to get out of her what it wrong, but just when Noel is about to tell her, a certain male teacher catches Noel’s eye and gives her a stern look. Noel stops abruptly and her eyes start to fill up with tears. Mathilda turns to see what she is looking at and she sees the teacher. Mathilda turns back to face Noel and ask her what the deal is, but she has already taken off crying. Mathilda gets a bad feeling and goes to look for her friend.

Eventually Mathilda meets up with Noel at Noel’s room and Noel tells her what happened with the teacher the night before. Noel tells Mathilda that even if she tells anybody, they won’t believe her, and everyone will hate her, They decide that they will try to deal with it together.

A few days later Mathilda goes to Noel’s room to get her for breakfast because Noel didn’t show up at Mathilda’s room like she usually does. There is no answer when Mathilda knocks on the door. Mathilda picks the lock and lets herself in. She sees Noel lying in the bed and there is an empty bottle of sleeping pills on the night table with a note. She tries to wake Noel up, but it is too late, she is dead. Mathilda calls 911 and all of the authorities come. Mathilda tries to tell the police and the heads of the school what happened with the teacher, but no one believes her.

“Just another depressed teen-ager.” After Mathilda realizes that she will get nowhere going through proper channels , she realizes, “It’s time to go see Uncle Tony!”

She goes to Tony and after a brief argument, she convinces him to help her. Within the next few days he gets her a pistol with a silencer and bolt cutters and gives her money for the hotel she will be staying in when this is over. She goes to the teacher’s apartment, puts gum on the peephole, feels for where the chain is, then gets him to open the door. He doesn’t have the chain on and opens the door all the way. He is startled to see her with the bolt cutters and she is startled because she didn’t have to cut the chain…but she improvises. She swings the bolt cutters and hits him in the head, knocking him to the ground. She puts the cutters back in the holster on her leg and takes out the gun and points it at him. He looks up and sees it and gets nervous and starts to try to talk his way out of it. She pays no attention to him as she is screwing the silencer on. When she is done and pays attention to him he makes a last attempt by offering her money, good grades, etc. “I’m not here to negotiate,” she says and pulls the trigger shooting him in the stomach. He looks down horrified, then looks back up at her. Their eyes meet and she says, “No women, no kids,” and pulls the trigger a second time. This one gets him in the chest, and he falls back dead.

Mathilda walks back to her room at school and gathers a few important belongings, then leaves for good. As she is leaving the campus, she says goodbye to the tree she planted about five years ago.

Time

2007-03-19T00:14:00.000-04:00

It started out like any other day. I was late for school and out of breath from running down the street trying to make up some time. I had hit the snooze button one too many times that morning and rather than sacrifice breakfast, I chose to move at double the speed. What I didn’t realize though was that the three bowls of “Lucky Charms” I had would give me “unlucky cramps” by the time I got to the end of my street. I was forced to alternate between running and walking (mostly walking), the whole time hoping that maybe my watch was a little more ahead than usual. Maybe instead of five minutes ahead of school time it had gradually sped up, without me noticing it, and become fifteen minutes ahead. Or maybe one of the busses was late, so they would be letting students into home room after the late bell. It had happened before, on more than on occasion and while it was a long shot, it gave me hope.

Finally, I was in sight of the school (with no sign of a late bus) and decided that the final stretch, no matter how much my midsection hurt, that I would run. At the end of my sprint I threw open the door and charged up three flights of stairs to the second floor. I went left at the top of the stairs, shot down the eerily empty hall, careened right around the corner and all but threw myself through the door.

“Not even close,” my homeroom teacher had said. “The late bell rang almost ten minutes ago.”
As I dropped my head and turned to start my trip to the office I heard one of the students under his breath say, “Maybe if you skipped breakfast now and then, Fatty, it would save you some time.”

Within a few minutes I was in line at the office waiting for my turn to get a late slip. When I got to the counter the secretary asked for my last name. “Girard” I told her, then to specify: “Timothy”. She then checked the big list of students to see how many lates I had. I knew I wasn’t going to get one of the regular slips, because I already had gotten office detention a few
times for being late. I wasn’t prepared, however, for what the secretary said next.

“This is your sixth time tardy, you have to be suspended. Go wait by the vice-principal’s office so he can fill out the paperwork.” Suspended? What the hell! What kind of stupid ass rule is that: Your punishment for missing ten minutes of homeroom is to miss three days of school.

When I finally got into the vice-principal’s office, I just sat there sulking while she filled out the paperwork and told me how they’re just preparing me for the real world and how if I had been late this many times at a job they would have fired me. But at my age I didn’t care about what kind of lesson they were teaching me. All I cared about was that I was going to have to go home and tell my parents. They would lecture me on how I have to get up earlier, but to do that I would have to go to bed earlier, but to do that I would have to start my homework earlier. If I did all this, when would I do all the things that I wanted to do like watch some TV, read a book, hang out with my friends? There just isn’t enough time in the day.

Once I was done being lectured, I was allowed to leave and begin my walk home. I kept going over in my mind how I would tell my parents, how they would react, and most importantly, how this would effect my weekend. I was so deep into thought when I got to the street that I didn’t bother to look before I crossed the street. The speed limit on this street is 25mph, but no one comes even close to following it. The absolute slowest anyone goes is 45mph. Plus, at the point where I was crossing there was a curve in the road, so anyone coming around the corner at 45mph would not be able to stop in time for a pedestrian who stepped right out in front of them…as I did.

The first thing I noticed was the silence. At first I thought I was dead and that’s why I couldn’t hear anything. Then I wondered if getting hit made me deaf. I opened my eyes to see where I was, and I saw that I was standing in the same spot. When I noticed the car coming, I didn’t have time to run or jump out of the way or anything. The only reaction I had time for was to turn my head, close my eyes, and wince at how much I was going to hurt. This was the position I was in now. I turned around in the direction that the car was coming from to see if maybe at the last second it had swerved off the road and hit a tree or something. To my complete surprise, I saw that the car was still there. The car had stopped dead about three feet in front of me. I wondered how he was able to stop in time and why he wasn’t yelling and swearing at me for getting in front of him. Then I noticed why he wasn’t moving at all. It was like he had been frozen stiff. I walked around to the driver’s side and looked in the window. As I walked around , the driver’s gaze remained straight ahead. I was trying to make sense of all this and I happened to look to my right. I noticed that all down the street there were cars, all stopped dead, like this one. I walked down the street a couple of feet and noticed another strange thing. One of the houses on the right had someone coming out if it, but she was frozen mid-step, looking at her watch, halfway out the door. This was nothing compared to what I saw next. On the sidewalk where I was walking there was a bunch of leaves in mid-air frozen in the shape of a cyclone. I went over and put my hand over them, under them, and on all sides, like a magician does to see if there were any strings holding them up. They were somehow suspended in mid-air.

This was the last straw, now I started getting freaked out. Why was there no sound at all and why was everything frozen in time? I didn’t like this, it was creepy. I wanted everything to start moving again…and then it did. I was knocked down by the barrage of sound and motion that returned all at once. Luckily I had moved to the sidewalk while everything was frozen, otherwise I would have been hit by all of the oncoming traffic. After a moment I got up, crossed the street (this time making sure to look both ways) and walked the rest of the way home.

Later that night, when both my parents were home and they began to lecture me (as I knew they would), I could not stop thinking about what had happened that afternoon. How come things had frozen just in time for me to not be hit by a car? How come I was still able I move? Why wasn’t there any sound? These questions plagued me well into the night until I had finally fallen asleep.

Well, I was off to a great start. It was my first day back after being suspended and guess what: I was running late. This time I opted to not eat breakfast, but I still left the house ten minutes after I should have. Some time before I got to the bottom of my street I started thinking about what happened three days ago. What if I walked to school while everything was frozen? What if I walked to school while everything was frozen? What if the clocks at school would be frozen too? Remembering that it happened last time when I almost got hit by a car, I ran into the street, just as a car was turning the corner. Unfortunately the car wasn’t going very fast and almost as soon as I stepped in front of it, the driver stopped short and began yelling at me questioning my mother’s species, insinuating that she was a canine. As I stepped out of his lane and onto the other side of the road, I got a little luckier. A black Monte Carlo had come roaring down the street and I had just enough time to glance over my shoulder and think that it wouldn’t stop in time when all of a sudden that silence came. I opened my eyes and looked and saw that the front bumper of the Monte Carlo was less than a foot from my legs. “That was too close,” I said, but this startled me because even though I know I said these words aloud, I didn’t hear them out loud. All I heard was a mumble inside my head.

“Oh well,” I thought, “no time to think about that now,” without realizing that I had as much time to think about it as I wanted to. I looked at my watch and it said 7:14. This meant that school time was 7:09 and in one minute the first bell would ring meaning we have ten minutes to get to homeroom. From where I was standing it usually takes me over fifteen minutes to get to school, so I hoped this would work. I began to jog down the street (not realizing that I could walk as slow as I wanted) all the while thinking how weird all this was but not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth. I would pass other people who were on their way to school and laugh to myself at the thought that I would get there before they did. When I got to the door that I usually enter the school through something occurred to me: What if because everything is frozen, I can’t open the door? Oh well, only one way to find out. I grabbed the handle, pressed the button, and pulled, and to my dismay, it opened. I guessed that things could move if I moved them. Once I let go of the door, it stayed open, so I pushed it shut.

As I was about to run up the stairs I realized that if I unfroze everything and I was standing somewhere that I wasn’t standing before, it would look kind of peculiar just appearing out of nowhere. So to remedy this I found a corner where no one was around and concentrated as hard as I could (not really knowing what to concentrate on).

The sound hit me like an explosion. The voices of about 1200 teenagers all entering my ears at once was like getting slammed with sledge hammers on both sides of my head. I staggered out of my hiding spot and made my way to homeroom. On the way I heard a bell ring, and thought, “Oh man, what bell is that?” Frantically I pulled back my coat sleeve to look at my watch and saw that it said 7:15 (which meant that school time was 7:10). The last time I looked at my watch it had said 7:14 and that was about fifteen minutes ago. Out of disbelief that it actually worked, I stopped someone in the hallway.

“Hey, what bell was that?”

“The ten past bell, man.”

It worked. It really worked. By sheer will I had stopped time, was able to move around and get where I needed to be, and then restart time. This event more than any other had changed my life.

Throughout the years I found many advantages of having my little gift. I was never late for homeroom, or any classes for that matter, ever again. Whenever there was a timed test, especially the SAT’s, I was able to take as much time as I needed. If there was ever a day when I had homework that wasn’t done, I would just take care of it the minute before it was due. If my parents made me do something before I went out with my friends on a Saturday, like clean my room, my whole Saturday would not be wasted. I did not however use my ability to cheat. If I was taking a test, I wouldn’t stop time to look in my books for the answers, or go up to the teacher’s desk and look at the key.

There were limitations, however, to what I could do while time was stopped. Things could move if I moved them, but anything using electricity or having moving parts was useless. That’s why I can take a test while time is stopped, but I can’t type a paper on a computer or electric typewriter. This is why, even when I got a car, I never drove to school. The car would not run if I stopped time and I would still have to deal with traffic. If I walked though I could walk as slow as I wanted and still get there with plenty of time to spare. Also, the reason why I couldn’t hear anything was because nothing could vibrate to produce a sound and the sound waves of a sound couldn’t move. This is why I couldn’t even hear my own voice outside of my own head.
Having this power was a great advantage and was also useful for some fun and pranks, which I won’t get into. However, in my later years of college I learned that it came with a price. Going into my freshmen year I was used to it being a part of my life. If some of my friends called me to go drinking with them and I had some homework to do I’d tell them that I’d be done in a minute…and that’s all it would take. By the time they walked from their dorm next door to my dorm, I would have an entire 10 page paper done, and be wearing a new set of clothes for going out. The problem I ran into was that there were a lot more papers that needed to be typed so I would have to do them without stopping time. These were in addition to my regular homework which I could do while stopping time. There were also many projects I had to do that involved other people or going to other places. All these things I had to do without stopping time. Then when I moved to a house off campus, I had to drive to school so I couldn’t stop time then. There were chores around the house that I had to do, like laundry and doing the dishes, where time couldn’t be stopped. Also, I had a campus job that time could not be stopped for. Because of this, I had to stop time to do other things like eat, read, brush my teeth, get dressed, and sleep. The one that affected me the most was sleep. If I pulled an all-nighter and then it was time to get ready for school, I would stop time, go to sleep, and then when I woke up on my own, I would start time again and then get ready for school. This I had to do very often because of all my new (time requiring) activities.

I continued on like this, growing more and more dependent on my addiction as the years went on until, in my senior year, when someone, I don’t remember who, made a comment that my hair grows fast. This made me start to wonder, so I did a little experiment. One morning when I got up at 8:00, I shaved my face and by about 4:00 it started to get a little prickly. The next few nights I purposely didn’t get enough sleep: only about 5 hours a night. On about the fifth night, I shaved again, and went to bed at 4 in the morning, but before sleeping at all I stopped time. When I woke up I went into the bathroom to inspect my face. I had more stubble on my face than I did the other day when 8 hours had gone by! This meant that while time was stopped, my hair continued to grow, which meant that I continued to grow, which meant that I continued to age. This had never occurred to me before. Franticly, I ran and got a pencil and paper and began to do the math. I figured that, on average per week, I stopped time for 32 hours. Times 52 weeks in a year, times 6 years that I’ve had this curse. This came to a total of 9984 hours, which I divided by 24 for the hours in the day.

“416 days! That’s over a year extra that I’ve lived in this span of time! I’m going to be a year older than everyone I graduate with! This wasn’t a blessing, it’s a fucking disease that ate my life away! I can’t stop using it now, I don’t know how to manage my life without it! Oh God, it’ll probably keep getting worse and worse until I die 40 years before I’m supposed to!”
After this screaming fit, I dropped my pencil and stared blankly at the wall for some time. How much time? I do not know.

College and Post-College

2007-03-19T00:09:00.000-04:00

Most of these next works I am way more proud of than the high school stuff. They also have a very different direction. Enjoy! (I hope)

Upside-down

2007-03-18T23:43:00.000-04:00

Your down side is up, Your up side is down
You walk on the ceiling, And not on the ground

Your right is the left, Your left is the right
Your evening is day, And your morning is night

Your inside is out, Your outside is in
Your triumph is failure, And your defeat is a win

Your backward is front, Your forward is back
You feel you’re imprisoned, When they cut you some slack

The winter water burns, And the fire’s so cold
Your maturity comes so young, And you’re a fool when you grow old

You remember the future, While you sit around and wait for the past
You can’t wait for yesterday, Because tomorrow went by so fast

You’re not like us, you don’t fit in
The list’s so long, I don’t know where to begin

Haiku

2007-03-18T23:40:00.000-04:00

The rain in the sky
Beautiful liquid crystals
Like tears on my face

Thunder in the air
Lightning up in the heavens
A dry summer breeze

Snow covered mountains
Clouds slowly drifting above
An eagle soars by

A strong sturdy tree
Leaves of yellow, red and brown
Stirred by a fall breeze

The tide rolling in
Foam rises on the wet sand -
Flows over my toes

Drifting in the sea
All alone in the ocean
No land is in sight

New Heart (1/23/95)

2007-03-18T23:30:00.000-04:00

Created - through the hands of another
Comfort - given from her like no other

In the silence that grips me
From the pain that rips me-

I grow a new heart
Flourished by her presence

Held in her arms, as she is in mine
Love without limits, Life without time

Her comforting shelter - a calm reassurance
Today and forever - her loving endurance

A safe place, with no worry or fears
Her warm gentle love, dries all my tears

Begun in life; continuing through death
In each other’s arms we will breathe our dying breath

Into the afterlife our spirits will soar
And so will our love from now until evermore…

The Dream Chronicles Part 1 The End of the World (11/13/94)

2007-03-18T23:27:00.000-04:00

Woah, what a weird dream! It started off with me in bed. When I got up and looked out the window, I didn’t see the sky, or clouds or the sun. I saw a giant scroll stretching as far as I could see. The writing on it, I knew, was Ancient Hebrew. Even though I couldn’t read Ancient Hebrew, I knew the scroll said that today was the end of the world.

Alarmed by this fact, I ran downstairs screaming and hollering, “Oh my God, we’re going to die!” But when I reached the kitchen, everyone was sitting there, peacefully eating breakfast and chatting like they normally would. I asked them if they noticed that the sky had been replaced by a giant scroll, reading that today was the end of the world. They said that they realized this and decided to spend their last day on Earth doing their normal everyday routine; living out the day as God gives it to them.

But I didn’t want to spend my last day here sitting around the house. There were people that I wanted to say goodbye to and spend time with, movies I wanted to see, places I wanted to go, experiences I wanted to have. But my parents insisted that we all stay home together like we normally would have, and I wasn’t even allowed to use the phone.

Upset by this condition, I went upstairs to sulk. I spent almost my entire day upstairs pouting, crying, reading, writing poems, listening to the radio, playing my guitar, lying down, and crying some more. I only went downstairs to eat, watch TV for a few minutes, ask my parents if they changed their minds about letting me leave the house, and then pout in front of them when I got their answer.

Unavoidably, the end of the day, and world, was only a few minutes away. So my parents called me downstairs, and we all went and sat out on the porch together and waited.

The second before the day ended, the entire sky lit up with a flash that totally blinded me, and for an instant, I felt unconscious. Then, immediately after, I regained consciousness, but not my vision; I was still blind. I realized that I was in the presence of God, and that he is about to decide where I go in the afterlife.

Then God spoke, but it wasn’t a man’s voice and it wasn’t a woman’s voice either. It wasn’t a child’s voice, nor was it an adult’s voice. It wasn’t an angry, or happy or sad voice. It wasn’t in English, or Spanish, or French or Italian. It was a voice like all the voices ever spoken since the beginning of time combined. Every tone, every emotion, every octave in every language, of every voice, was in God’s voice all at once.

And God said: “Timothy Daniel Girard, this past day has been your Day of Judgment. It was to reflect how you looked upon your entire life: to see if you have lived a full and fruitful and happy one.”

“You spent your last day doing nothing but wallowing in self pity, and trying to bring others down with you. This proves that you haven’t used the life that I have given you, to its full extent, and then wished to fit everything in on the Last Day.”

“You will be given one last chance to prove that you can use the gifts that I have given you, to their fullest extent and be happy with the results. Now go. And heed these words I have told you, for this is your last chance.”

And with those words, the blinding, white light began to fade until I was in total darkness. That is when I opened my eyes, here in my bed. Wow, weird.

Well, I should get back to sleep, I have to get up early for school. Well, G’night…

-Until when next I dream-

Human Nature (10/6/94)

2007-03-18T23:25:00.000-04:00

As humans we have certain tendencies that, at times, seem to run our lives. Those tendencies include selfishness, jealousy, hatred, stubbornness, obsession and confusion to name a few.

Let’s take the first one: Selfishness. To think of yourself more than others. This is most common in small children and becomes less and less visible with age (but is still very much present among adults).

Next is Jealousy, a form of selfishness, but not as bad. It is wanting, for yourself, something (or someone) that someone else has. It’s not a very satisfying feeling. If you spend your life wishing you had what he has, you’ll never be happy. You’ll also annoy people around you with your endless whining.

Hatred: the straight out, utter despising of someone. This one can eat you up if you let it get the best of you. The littlest peeve, if left to fester, can soon turn into this horrible monster which makes its host irrational, moody and sometimes violent.

“No, I will not see things from your point of view, I’m right, my point of view is the best. I’m not going to listen to you, no, no, no, no…” - Stubbornness. Being closed-minded to everyone’s opinion but yours. This is especially difficult for you and everyone to cope with if you have an occupation in which you constantly are working with other people. Anything that requires a team effort; sports, work, a band a relationship; can’t work if one of those members is stubborn. Then he becomes the boss (or so he thinks) and people just won’t put up with that.

Okay, here’s a fun one: Obsession. This is when you want, more than anything, that which is extremely bad for you, of otherwise unattainable. The more people try to keep you away from an object (or person) you would like to obtain, the more you crave it. And then finally when people say, “Okay, fine, do what you want,” and all of a sudden, this thing is attainable, you run right out, and you… don’t want it anymore. Pretty warped and twisted, huh?

Last, but not least: Confusion (most common in teenagers). The result of all these aspects, plus others, trying to be dominant in your personality. With all of these traits trying to make themselves you, you soon forget who the real you is. It’s best to just wait and let them fight it out. Eventually they kill each other off, and only the real you will remain.

I hope you enjoyed this trip into the psyche, and I hope it didn’t make you too scared of yourself. Maybe it made you realize a few things that need changing. Do your best, but don’t get too frustrated, because remember; you’re only human.

Space? (9/28/94)

2007-03-18T23:15:00.000-04:00

What lies beyond the limits of out atmosphere? Is it just a vast nothingness, not comprehendible by out human minds? Were all space travels and satellite-taken-pictures just something cooked up in Hollywood and accepted by people as a reality?

Assuming that what NASA has explored is not a farce, what lies beyond what the telescopes have seen? Or what the satellites have taken pictures of? Or where the astronauts have been? Are there any galaxies out there like ours; any that have something close to our form of life? Do we have alien counterparts somewhere? Or are they something totally different? Are our time and size the same or relative to theirs? Is there no real life as we know it, but only celestial beings? Are we alone in the universe?

How far does the universe reach? Is it an endless void with no beginning or end? With no center or boundaries? Is that the expression of infinity; or is it a little different? Does the Universe have boundaries? If so, what lies beyond those boundaries? Suppose we were to get past the reaches of the Universe, would we find that our entire Universe is merely the nucleus of an atom in a whole other universe? And is every nucleus of an atom in that universe a different universe altogether? What if every nucleus of an atom in our Universe is an entire universe altogether? Does it continue both ways like that forever? Is that infinity?

Did our Universe ever have a birth? Will it have a death? Are these questions too complex for our human minds to ponder? Or are we just too scared to realize or find out? I’m not: what’s out there?

In my opinion, space is what we make of it. It does not apply to any certain set of rules. Each person is different and has their own set of opinions and thoughts. We all see things differently. We can’t see something from someone else’s eyes, therefore we don’t know what they see. In this sense, we don’t know what they see space as. Therefore, there is no proof that space is the same for everybody. Space is in the eye of the beholder.

(I would like to thank my Dad and Stephen King for their theories on space which I have included in this essay.)

Fly (8/31/94)

2007-03-18T23:10:00.000-04:00

Walking on the Earth
Ever since my birth
Glued to the ground;
To the land, I am bound

I want to leave the Earth’s confines
To find a brand new state of mind
To reach the clouds and mountaintops
Past the stratosphere, I will not stop

I want to fly
Fly: sail through the sky
Fly: bid the ground (Earth) my good-bye
Fly-the trees, the birds, the air
Fly-mountains, clouds, the stratosphere

Floating in the water,
Swimming in a lake
I’m drowning in this H2O
I can barely stay awake

A new sensation to dry my eyes
Leave the water that I despise
To glide through the air around and around
I could stay here forever and never come down

Wind in my hair, air all around
With one last look, wave good-bye to the ground

Thunder and Lightning (7/19/94)

2007-03-18T23:02:00.000-04:00

BOOM!
A fire in the sky
A rumble in the distance

A thudding in your ear
Your heart skips a beat
A crackle in the air
As the vibration catches your feet

Nature’s fireworks
The clashing of gods

An explosion of fury
As the clouds collide
In a great battle
That seems to never subside

The cold rain hits tour face
It sends a chill down your spine

The sky begins to cry
As the tremendous light show continues
You’re frightened by the noise
And yet a strange sort of peace dwells within you

A natural wonder that
graces the sky
The shape of this beauty
quickly catches you eye

Overcome by the sound
Hypnotized by the sight
You give in to the wonder
As your imagination takes flight!

Soaring through the tempest
Dancing with the clouds
Wrestling with the lightning
The thunder: hear it sound

Back here on Earth
You rub and open your eyes
You look up as the clouds
Are leaving the skies

The remnants of the summer storm
The air is damp but warm
You think the storm has totally gone
But one last beauty before it goes

Enter - the rainbow…

Valentine (2/14/94)

2007-03-18T23:01:00.000-04:00

His is a struggle between two loves
Though he can’t see it yet,
One is not a true love,
But an indulgent substitute

He thinks his feelings aren’t as
Strong for his true love
But he is just afraid to admit to
Himself how strong his love really is

He has been fooled before and has
Mistaken false love for true
In his confusion and hurt
He now mistakes true love for false

He thinks he sees signs
Of her returned love
But as self defense,
He becomes numb to them (no more hurt)

As they talk, he becomes more sure
Of his love for her
And her possible
Love for him

In their conversations, he sees a
Way that he can win her heart
A rose, she said would make her happy
On Valentine’s Day

Not “a” rose he gets her, but two
Because he doesn’t just want to
Make her happy, but also to
Show his great love for her

“Happy Valentine’s Day” he says
As he presents his gift
In her eyes he begins to see
Her love surface

They danced that evening
He would look into her eyes
“I love her” he would think
Nothing but, “I love her”

As they parted that night
They kissed
And when they kissed,
Oh sweet bliss

He went home that night with a promise,
A promise of togetherness,
A promise of happiness,
A promise of Love

The Tunnel (11/8/93)

2007-03-18T22:59:00.000-04:00

I am walking through the tunnel; the tunnel is my life.
I can see painted pictures to my left and to my right.

The pictures are events in life, the ones that I hold dear.
Little do I realize, the end of my tunnel is near.

I see my Mom, I see my Dad, I see my sisters and pets.
I see my friends, I see my cousins, but I haven’t seen you yet.

Ah, here it is, I strain my neck to see it up above.
The painting is a symbol of our confused and tortured love.

As I walk on, I see yet more; paintings of you and me.
Then I come upon one painting, that seems quite strange to me.

In this painting, I am on the ground, by my side you are crying.
Soon I come to realize, that in this painting, I am dying.

There was a struggle, your life was threatened, so I came to your side.
It’s clear to me, that for you, my love, from this struggle, I have died.

Suddenly there is a light so bright, it blinds and burns my eyes.
I cannot see the angels, but I can hear their beautiful cries.

The angels take me from my tunnel, to bring me to paradise.
“But I don’t want to go!” I shout, “I don’t want to leave my life!”

I awaken the next morning with the sun in my eyes, and my body drenched with sweat.
I’m here! I’m alive! Lying safely in bed, the angels haven’t taken me yet.

Then I recall last night’s dream, and the struggles that took place.
I remember my death, I remember the angels, and then I remember your face.

I come to realize, how I feel; for you my love is true.
I realize that though I’m scared; I’d die, my love, for you.

The Definition of Love IV. What Love Is

2007-03-18T22:57:00.000-04:00

I was introduced to her, and I learned her name
Pretty soon I had feelings for her, but these weren’t the same

“We respect each other”
That’s what love is
“We care for each other”
That’s what love is
“We have hope for each other”
That’s what love is
“We share our dreams with each other”
That’s what love is
“We can wait for each other”
That’s what love is

I know that if it ends, we will always be friends

The Definition of Love III. What Is Love?

2007-03-18T22:55:00.000-04:00

I am lost - in a forest of questions
I am drowning - in a lake of confusion
I don’t know love

I am sad from the loss of my lover
I am lonely because I don’t have another
I lost my love

What is love?

The Definition of Love II. adoration

2007-03-18T22:53:00.000-04:00

I’m so confused about how I feel
I have feelings for you, but I don’t know if they’re real
One thing I’m sure, is that I adore you with all of my heart

No matter how far you wander, your absence makes my heart grow fonder

I don’t know if it’s love, I don’t know if it’s lust, but I know it’s you I adore
I can’t live without your touch, every day I want you more and more

Even though what we once had is gone, my love for you still lives on-
As a feeling of adoration…

The Definition of Love I. So You Think You’re In Love?

2007-03-18T22:49:00.000-04:00

Joe loves Jane and Jane loves Joe
That’s how a typical teenage story goes
“We’re gonna be together ‘4-eva’ and a day”
“We don’t care what our parents say”
“We’d do anything for love” -
So you think you’re in love?

“We need each other”
So you think you’re in love?
“We hold each other”
So you think you’re in love?
“We touch each other”
So you think you’re in love?
“We prize each other”
So you think you’re in love?
“We want each other”
So you think you’re in love?
“We lust each other”
Well that’s not love.

Well Joe dumped Jane and Jane hates Joe
Where did that teenage “love” go?
See, you thought you were in love

Solitaire

2007-03-18T22:48:00.000-04:00

Solitaire - a game made for one
Solitude - loneliness is anything but fun
Solitaire - the lonely man’s game
Seclusion - a deserted (alienated) man with no name
Solitaire - amusement for the lonely
Soliloquy - conversation for the only
No friends, no family, no one to turn to.
You’re al alone, the only one who cares for you is you

Because I Do

2007-03-18T22:47:00.000-04:00

“Why,” you ask, “do you love me?”
My reply: “Because I Do.”
“Why,” you ask, “do you get so lonely?”
My reply: “Because I Do.”
“Why,” you ask, “do you want to see me?”
My reply: “Because I Do.”
“Why,” you ask, “do you want to call me?”
My reply: “Because I Do.”
“Why,” you ask, “do you not trust me?”
My reply: “Because I Do.”
“Why,” you ask, “do you want to kiss me?”
My reply: “Because I Do.”
“Why,” you ask, “do you want to hold me?”
My reply: “Because I Do.”
“Why,” you ask, “do you want only me?”
My reply: “Because I Do.”
“Why,” you ask, “do you feel life is empty without me?”
My reply: “Because I Do.”
“Why,” you ask, “do you want to spend forever with me?”
My reply: “Because I Do.”
“Why,” you ask, “do you?”
I reply: “Because I Love You.”

I'm back

2007-03-18T21:12:00.000-04:00

Hey, it's been a while. I wanted to use this to post some of the other creative writing I've done. First I'm going to post all of the old stuff I did back when I was in high school. Some of them are poems, some song lyrics, some essays and some aren't even finished. I'm not saying they're great, or even good, but keep in mind, I was in high school. Here they are.

Did you go to the beginning? Really, it's OK, I'll wait. If you start here, it ruins it. OK.

2006-12-01T00:57:00.000-05:00

What you just read did not happen to me, (well, not the me that you know, anyway) but it is not fiction. You see, since the universe is infinitely big, then everything conceivable is happening somewhere. There are actually alternate versions of the reality we know of. In these alternate realities, there are slight or sometimes drastic variations from what we experience. People who read Marvel Comics will know these as the "What If...?"s. None of these realities are any less real than the one we know. Sometimes I get a glimpse into these other versions as maybe many of you do. I won't explain why I chose to write about this glimpse however, that is open for your interpretation.

I apologize to anyone that read this, for not warning you in advance about its content. I felt it was necessary that you experience it as "real" and not just as a story that someone wrote.

Thanks for reading. More to come...

Um…so I’m still here.

2006-11-13T23:26:00.000-05:00

Since my last post on the 11th. I’ve been enjoying myself and trying to just live day to day. Things have gotten better and better. I started playing with TJ, which has been amazing. After Amy got back from Florida, she said I could still crash at the house. I’ve been going back and forth between there and Mom’s house, which is cool, because I get to hang out with Keith and Amy all the time, and play with Camille and Lorelei. It’s also great because just when I’m sick of the drama at home, I leave, and when I come back, I’ve missed it a little. I bought a laptop so I can work on my stuff when I’m not at home (would have helped when I was doing my book). Me and Keith have been playing songs together and are starting to put together a cover band with J and Drew (I’ve been singing and playing guitar). We celebrated Mom’s birthday. Emilie and Joe had a dinner party. I have a new “favorite” movie - She’s The Man with Amanda Bynes who is the funniest girl EVER. I’ve never laughed so hard at a movie, (I watched it four to five times in one week, two of those in the same day) and now me and Steph have a whole slew of new movie quotes to trade off. I did finally go to that girl Jen’s house, but I doubt I’ll ever see her again. Lets just say there was a huge cloud of smoke and then I sat completely motionless for about two hours surrounded by strangers and wore out my welcome. It’s just as well - it didn’t feel like we had chemistry anyway. I did forget Fight Club there which sucks though. I saw a concert with the Kronos Quartet that I was excited about, but ultimately disappointed by. Kronos was good, but the piece was supposed to be about space, but to me, it felt too close to home. It was more about people, on earth, than whatever is out there. I could have done it better. Saturday was the last football game of the Marching Band season (we still have the pass and review concert on Friday). Later that night was Emilie’s birthday party, and it was the most fun I’ve had in a long time.

OK, so two more exciting pieces of news.

1. I started shopping my book around because I figured it wouldn’t be something Mom wouldn’t want to do and …it’s getting published! It’s going to be so cool to walk into Borders and see my name staring back at me in big letters. I won’t say how much I got paid, but it was enough to take care of my old debt, and all the debt added to it by not teaching for two months…AND THEN SOME! They are also interested in publishing the rest of the epic and offered an advance to get me started. “What good will that do?” you say. “How will I be able to write another book, let alone a whole series?” Well, that leads us to exciting piece of news number two.

Drumroll, please… BUM BADA-BAAA BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BAAAAAAA

2. I’M NOT DYING! The headaches stopped almost instantly, soon after I finished my book. Then, one morning I woke up and it was like Rose said, I just knew it was gone. It did take a while to sink in again though. I had been only doing the things that I enjoyed for so long, that I had gotten used to being happy. Those headaches were the best thing to ever happen to me. Because of them, for the first time, I’m living.

10/11

2006-10-11T21:34:00.000-04:00

This will probably be my last post. I’m not sure how much time I have left, but I will try to spend it doing the things that I love, with the people that I love. This last month was truly a gift. I have no regrets.
I am ready.

Thanks for reading,
Tim Girard

10/10

2006-10-11T21:27:00.000-04:00

I finished! It’s done! Thank God! Once again, it’s like giving birth. It’s SO GOOD!! It’s probably the best thing I’ve ever done. What a way to go out!

10/9

2006-10-11T21:26:00.000-04:00

I finished Smallville last night so I went to bed pretty late (even late for me). Then Carl called to go to lunch, so I didn’t get a full night’s sleep, but I felt great! I only got 5 or 6 hours, but I wasn’t drowsy of sore like I usually am. I went to lunch with him and Keith at Panera and then we went to Barnes and Noble. I bought the new Tool CD because I wanted to check it out (I’m sure it will go to a good home). It’s pretty good and the artwork is cool. It was beautiful out so I went walking which I hadn’t done in a while. It was amazing, I felt like I was buzzing! I went back to Mom’s and worked on my book, pretty much straight through till now. I’m so close to finishing, but I’m getting sleepy. I didn’t want to push it and write crap, so I’ll finish it tomorrow.

10/8

2006-10-11T21:25:00.000-04:00

Pam and Hugo came over today. I had her cut my hair which I guess is moot, but I like when she cuts my hair. We get to talk. Also, I can tell that when she’s cutting hair, she feels how I feel when I’m writing music. I like contributing to that. Plus I’m sure she’d rather do it now than later. She and Hugo had a “secret meeting” with Mom when I got out of the shower. Good for them, I’m happy for her. Hugo’s great and I know he’ll take good care of her.
I was going to work on my book, but I could tell I was going to get a headache. Instead I wrote my letters. One to Mom, one to the girls, one to my friends, one to family and one to Brian and the DL. I explained to everyone why I didn’t say anything and how I don’t regret it because I was able to enjoy my last month instead of wallowing, and trying to make everyone OK with it. I left a will of sorts, leaving Mom in charge of everything (except my comics of course, Brian gets those). I left Mom the password to my computer so she can access my book and music. I also told everyone about my blog so they can look back on my last month if they want to. It felt like a huge weight was lifted when I finished and I’m actually in a pretty good mood. One step closer. I think I’ll treat myself to some Smallville tonight.

10/7

2006-10-11T21:24:00.000-04:00

Another goddam headache today! I couldn’t stand using my computer, but I did get I/C/R mapped out. I don’t think I’ll have time to finish it, but I got enough of the notes, plus detailed instructions on the instrumentation, that anyone with a notation program can finish it. Maybe Anthony will just do it himself, or use the money he was going to pay me, to hire someone else to do it.
So I did my last Thayer concert and wore my tux for the last (well, second to last) time…eh. I came, I played my triangle part and I left. I did go out with Keith, Dan and his new tenant after, and I still had my tux on. Then we went to a slumber party and watched boxing. Well, at least I can say, “I watched boxing at a slumber party while wearing my tux before I died.”

10/6

2006-10-11T21:20:00.000-04:00

When I got out of the shower today there were 2 messages from Brian. I guess he told the Yamaha guy that we weren’t interested in what he had to offer after all. It was cool not having someone come in and take something from me, that me and J have been working our asses off on for like 6 years. It was kind of insulting of him to step in and do that. It did make me realize how much the line appreciates me and how much they mean to me.
I was burning through my book today until I got another headache. I had to go to Thayer anyway. I was there for like a half hour then got to leave. On the way home TJ called me. He’s been wanting to get together and play again and I keep telling him I can’t because of work. I didn’t want to get involved with something new, which sucks because I had a blast playing with him. I told him that we should get together for an acoustic jam on Thursday. It’s for a purely selfish reason though - I want to play again if I’m still around then.

10/5

2006-10-06T03:12:00.000-04:00

Last night after the extra session with the Yamaha guy, I went to Tom, Lazer, Brando and Ill’s. Holy shit was I [omitted]! When we were in the car I could feel all my chakras! Then later we were all listening to Yellow Background, Blue Spheres, Black Segments, White Circles and Ill said it reminded him of “an Aboriginal dreamscape. You know, with wolves turning into the night sky?” I laughed my ass off for 5 minutes! I felt bad after though, I think he thought I was making fun of how he interpreted it. I just loved the phrase “wolves turning into the night sky.” When I listened to it, it felt like I was leaving my body. What a blast! Then Tom put on 311 and Alice In Chains DVD’s and I zoned out. Tom thought I passed out (maybe I did) so everyone went to bed. I was going to take them all out for breakfast, but most of them had classes so it was just me and Tom. He’s a good kid. He reminds me of myself sometimes.
Had another headache tonight which made it hard to drive to and from Thayer. It’s better now though. On the way back, I got a message from Brian. I guess the Yamaha guy wants a permanent position working with the DL, which means I would become his assistant. I want to see what the kids want. If they are ready to move to that level, I won’t hold them back. I guess this came at the perfect time. Now I’ll have a replacement. He better take good care of them.

10/3

2006-10-06T03:11:00.000-04:00

I’m at Keith’s tonight. I’m starting to really like being a nomad. We watched disc 1 of Lost Season 1. I think he’s hooked.

10/2

2006-10-06T03:10:00.000-04:00

Well it finally hit home. I guess it was a combination of being back home, thinking about Ashley and that I probably won’t make it to the next football game to hear my arrangement of “Planet Krypton” performed. Last night I broke down, I lost it. So far it was just something I said but now I KNOW - I’m going to die. I wasn’t just crying, I was sobbing, for I don’t know how long. I must have been till I fell asleep because I don’t remember stopping. Today wasn’t much better. I screamed at Murphy because he was barking at me while I was loading my car and I snapped at Cory because she smart mouthed me. The guy from Yamaha was here which made me insecure and defensive on top of everything else.
On the bright side, I did get to finish “Planet Krypton” so I can have it to Brian on Wednesday and they can definitely perform it.

10/1

2006-10-06T03:09:00.000-04:00

Well that’s one down. Tonight I watched the rest of Lost, Season 2 with Mom, I thought it wasn’t going to happen cuz when I went to Hollywood (that girl Kate was working, I hadn’t seen her in a while), they were out. I called later on, and someone had returned it. It left off at a good place for me to end.
Today was Ashley’s birthday. Originally I wanted to send her an email and basically say goodbye. But I realized that I don’t think she would want that. I feel like it would make her uncomfortable and she would think that I wanted to try to get back together or something. I opted to just text her with, “Happy Birthday!” instead. That was enough closure for me.
Oh, I’m also doing an arrangement of “Planet Krypton” for the homecoming show. It’s pretty easy, J found a copy of the midi file on line and I just opened it in Sibelius, so I just have to do some tweaking and then copy and paste and it’s done. It’ll be good to have my name in the credits one last time.

9/30

2006-10-06T03:08:00.000-04:00

Today I had the most fun at a game that I’ve ever had! I don’t know why. I did a lot of cheers and it was nice out, I was in a good mood, no headaches. We won against Brown, but I don’t think that had much to do with it. I hope homecoming is that fun. Wait…if I make it to homecoming.
We also had the Cranston East exhibition. We were very rushed and I think it showed in the playing. The DL was still good, you could just tell that they didn’t have time to focus their energy. They still did well though.
I hung out with J and we finally played some more Silent Hill 4. That game has become way too tedious. Felicia came over and was watching us play for a while and I felt bad for her. I left soon after she did and drove home exhausted. I probably should have stayed at J’s, but I sleep like shit there. And of course now that I’m home, I’m wide awake! Hmm, I haven’t read any comics in a while.

9/29

2006-10-06T03:07:00.000-04:00

Just got back from the Tool concert and it was amazing! After really listening to their lyrics and watching the films that go with their music, I realized how much they KNOW. I wish I had the chance to do stuff like that. Well, I guess that’s what my book and I/C/R are for. Oh, my book is about half way done by the way! From here on it should be like rolling off a log!

9/28

2006-10-06T03:06:00.000-04:00

I went to get comics with Brian today. It was cool, because we hadn’t gone together since I’ve been at the lake house. I hope we get to actually hang out soon, I’m always distracted by the comics when we go. It’s more like running an errand together than visiting with a friend. I know he’s busy with everything, but I miss him.
I also had a Thayer rehearsal tonight. I figured I’d do one last concert with them, but now I’m almost regretting it. I’m playing triangle on just one piece. I was able to leave after 45 minutes and go home early, but it’s almost not worth the drive. Oh well, an excuse to wear my tux one last time.

9/27

2006-10-06T03:05:00.000-04:00

This morning I went to a presentation by the composition teacher on exotic tuning and scales. It was weird being in a classroom setting again. It made me realize how far beyond college I am too. Not that it matters now, but I realized I would not go to grad school. There’s so much to learn outside of class that even if I had the chance, I wouldn’t go back.
Oh, I also moved back into Mom’s again. I thought I would have till like Saturday, but Carl said his uncle was coming today at 5 to clean up. I had to pack everything up and load it into my car before band. I had just gone food shopping too. Oh well, at least now I can just work on my computer instead of using Carl’s laptop and transferring the files back and forth with my memory stick. I was going to do some tonight, but I had a headache when I got here, so I think I’ll just go to bed.

9/26

2006-10-06T03:04:00.000-04:00

Today was Dad’s birthday.

9/25

2006-10-06T03:02:00.000-04:00

While I was walking today, I got some good ideas for Indigo/Crystal/Rainbow. That’s always how it works too, I can’t rush it. I have to just let it come to me…but it always does.
Carl’s uncle found someone to rent the lake house…for real this time. It was fun while it lasted. Keith said Amy’s going to be away from Oct. 1st to the 15th and I can stay with him. Maybe I’ll just stay at Mom’s house for the remainder. Carl talked about me and him getting an apartment with a three month lease while J finalizes house stuff. I’ll have to stall him, I don’t want to leave him stuck with it. Then again, I don’t want to leave J stuck with the mortgage. This sucks, I hate being caught in the middle of them two, especially now. I’ve got more important shit to worry about.

9/24

2006-09-25T05:03:00.000-04:00

Parade today...rain again. When I got to the FAC, I gave my stuff to Tom and told him to save me a seat. When I got on the bus, my stuff was on the seat next to Ashley. It was only mildly uncomfortable.
I watched some more Smallville when I got back to the lake house. I've been crying a lot more while I'm watching it lately. I wonder if the episodes are getting more sentimental or if I am.
Another headache. I took a nap and that seemed to help. I woke up when Carl got back. We played Stuntman for a while before he went to bed. I didn't have as much fun playing it as I used to. I wonder why.
I did some research for Indigo/Crystal/Rainbow on the internet. It felt good to get absorbed into all that stuff again. It always feels like I'm on some kind of treasure hunt. Most times the treasure isn't what I think it’s going to be, but it's usually better than what I was actually looking for.

9/23

2006-09-25T05:02:00.000-04:00

Today was a game day and guess what...it rained. Weird. It was pretty fun though. One of the cheerleaders requested UR-URI by asking us to "do the [palms-up-and-move-head-side-to-side-like-an-Egyptian] cheer. It's nice to know I've made an impression. I did get a headache at the game, but that might have just been from doing my snare-scream (which J made sure to remind me how much everyone hates).
When I went food shopping after the game, I bought deodorant and toothpaste because I was almost out. It was weird thinking, "this is the last time I will buy deodorant and toothpaste." It's kind of like when you have a baby and everything is a "first." Or even when someone close to you dies, everything becomes, "this is the first (fill in the blank) without..." Except everything from now on will be a last.
I didn't end up going on that blind date tonight. Pam told me that Jen had to move into her new apartment this weekend. Pam said that she's not trying to blow it off though, so I believe her. Maybe next weekend. I watched a bunch of Smallville instead, which was cool because I was kind of tired (and it's part of the list!). Then Katie called. I hadn't talked to her since like my birthday. She's leaving for England tuesday and she was in Woonsocket. I invited her to the lake house so she came down. It was cool. We tried to catch up, but it's weird trying to summarize like four months of life experience. What's important, what's relevant, what won't set me off on too much of a rant... And when she left, there it was again: "That's the last time I'm going to see Katie."

9/22

2006-09-25T04:58:00.000-04:00

I went walking and listened to Steph's Mitch Hedberg CD that I put on my iPod last night. Holy shit was it funny. I hadn't laughed like that in a while. Probably looked like an idiot walking and laughing, but who cares. My computer was being good today so I got a lot of my book done. I jumped around a lot so it was bits and pieces here and there, but it was probably the equivalent of 7 - 10 pages. Not bad. In between I also started sketching Indigo/Crystal/Rainbow. I won't actually put anything down on staff paper yet until I get the exact instrumentation from Anthony, but I solidified the form a little.
Tonight Tom, Lazer, Brando and Ill had a CG/DL thing at their house. It had a pretty good turnout. I brought my guitar and Me and J went and played songs in Tom's room pretty much the whole time. I gave Ill a new set of strings that I had. I won't get to use them. I had fun, screaming Sober, singing Alice In Chains with Tom, Savage Garden with Kristin and Andrea. We even had an audience at one point. I just wish I could've done some of my other favorites like Blower's Daughter, but that probably would've killed it. Hey! Maybe sometime next month I can have a "Tim's Gonna Die Soon" concert, and I'll play all the songs I want!

9/21

2006-09-25T04:50:00.000-04:00

I watched the 100th episode of Smallville today. It made me think of Dad.
I went to Mom's to work on my book but the word processor was being stupid again, so I just dicked around with all my old shit. How am I supposed to finish in a couple weeks if shit doesn't work? I started getting another headache again anyway, so I went and watched Lost with Mom. That show is so good! I love its sense of "everything happens for a reason". They were really good episodes, but it was hard to watch the one with Rose. "When you're sick you can just feel it." I wish there was a desert island I could go to that would heal me.

9/20

2006-09-21T03:46:00.000-04:00

So there you have it. More to follow.

9/19

2006-09-21T03:36:00.000-04:00

So today was my first "day off" since I quit lessons. It was pretty good considering. It was nice out, so I went walking. I also did tai chi when I got back. I made me realize something. I don't just do those things to get or stay healthy, because at this point it doesn't matter. I just plain enjoy doing them. I feel better after and it's somehow easier to deal with things.
While I was in the shower I got a good idea for a short story. It's me telling my daughter a bedtime story. It's an interesting idea, but it seems pointless and it's kind of depressing, so I doubt I'll actually write it.
Probably the most important thing I did today was make a list of all the things I want to make sure to do before I die. I do want to leave behind somekind of legacy, so I thought about what's important, but also practical. First I thought big: I don't think I can finish my whole epic in one month, but if I work my ass off I should be able to finish my book. The piece for the URI Concert Band is also too big but the piece for Anthony's school should be doable. I'm not going to bother applying for that grant and I probably won't get to the Chakras Suite or the Planets piece for chorus. I might leave behind sketches and instructions for how I was going to do it in case someone wants to finish my work. I want to finish reading the Ancient Secrets of the Flower of Life book and hopefully get to Volume II. It's turning out to be one of my favorites. I don't want to read anymore comics without finished storylines. As it is, I already started Civil War, and I'm not going to see how it ends. Oh, and I also want to finish watching season 2 of Lost and season 5 of Smallville. I do want to write up some sort of will and write a letter to Mom and maybe a few other people I'm close to, so they have some sort of explaination. And just so I can say "goodbye."

9/18

2006-09-21T03:35:00.000-04:00

So I quit my monday lessons. I did save a lot of driving, but I felt way more guilty than I did quitting my other lessons. I still went to Marching Band rehearsal though. I think I'll keep doing Band even though I quit my other lessons. This way I'll still get a little bit of money and it'll break up the week a little. It's also not that hard and it is the most fun I have teaching and the DL is great this year. And J's there and the kids are old enough that I can swear in front of them, and the football games are pretty fun. Yeah. Keep telling yourself that's why you're not going to quit. You know there's only one reason why you're still doing Marching Band.

9/17

2006-09-21T03:34:00.000-04:00

Today was Steph's birthday. I'm glad I got to at least see her turn 18. Mom had a family party for her. I was glad for Mom because she finally got a chance to be proud of her house and show it off instead of thinking that it's not clean enough and being ashamed of it. I think she enjoys being a hostess a little too, every now and then.

9/16

2006-09-21T03:33:00.000-04:00

Today was a long day. Me and Carl ended up staying up till 4:00 after he got back from the party. Then this morning we got up at 9:30 because his uncle was showing the house to someone. Since we were up, we went to breakfast at the Middle of Nowhere Diner. It was amazing adn cheap. We said we'd go every weekend. Well, I'll go for the next couple of weekends anyway. We went to Warwick to go see the house. It was nice. I just hope I'll get to live in it, even if it's for just a little while.
I actually had a lot of fun tonight. Keith came over and we were playing and singing songs together. Then Carl brought over this girl that he's interested in and we tried to light a fire, which didn't work (the wood was too wet I think). Me and Keith drank some beers and played more songs (including the Charles In Charge theme), then played Burnout for a while. I even had a pretty good buzz goin'. Oh and Keith also set up a blog for me. I've been wanting to do one for a while, to put some of my poems and stories on. I didn't get to post anything yet, maybe next week.

9/15

2006-09-21T03:32:00.000-04:00

So I went in today and taught my last day of lessons. I felt like an asshole just leaving Nancy a note, but I didn't want to get into a fight and have it come out. She'll understand soon enough.
I went for sushi with Bill after lessons which was cool cuz we haven't hung out just the two of us in a while. Then hung out with J, Felicia, Dawn and Drew for a bit. They all had to wake up early though (J at 4 to catch a plane!) Carl was at a party at Andrea's so I went there to get the key and talked to Tom for a bit. I'm glad they've all got houses now and know how to have fun and don't need us anymore. Carl's still there! I'll probably be the one in bed first for once!

9/14

2006-09-21T03:30:00.000-04:00

Yeah, so at Purple Piano today only two of my students showed up, so I finally quit. It's bad enough to waste my time when I need money, It's the last straw to waste my time when I've only got a month of it left! I also decided to quit all my lessons. I'm going to enjoy the rest of my time here. I'll just tell Mom to sell my stuff afterward and use the money to pay off my debt. Maybe my art will be worth something!
On a lighter note, I saw Pam today and she said that Jen is still interested in meeting me. She said next saturday night might be good. I'm game. I just hope, for her sake, she doesn't fall in love with me.

9/13

2006-09-21T03:28:00.000-04:00

Today as a joke I asked Lazer if the future was any brighter. He said, "No... you're still alive." I said, "Great...I'm immortal...I was always afraid of that." And I always used to say irony was dead.
I wnr home after band and Iwas finally going to sit down and tell everyone. But everyone was so...preoccupied. I don't mean that in a bad way, they just were all doing their own thing, I guess because they're used to me not being around because I'm at the lakehouse. And that's a good thing. I didn't want to come crashing down into their lives with my...situation. So I made a decision: I'm not telling anyone. One of the worst parts of Dad dying was the two years before, when he slowly. I'm not going to be that, and I'm not going to put everyone through that. At some point I'll write a letter to everyone and explain it for after I'm gone.

9/12

2006-09-21T03:25:00.000-04:00

No one was home when I got up, but that was good. Still not in the mood to talk about it. I had to get ready to go to lessons anyway. It was my first day at More Than Music for the fall session. I actually forgot all about things for a little while when Frankie came in for his lesson. He didn't have his books, so we just talked for a while and then I told him to play something for me...and he did. I was blown away. He said he was actually using the stuff I've been teaching him. He was right, and then some. He actually had the understanding of the stuff and the creativity to use it musically. Damn, he's gonna be great some day! I actually had fun in his lesson. I'm going to miss some of these kids...
Oh yeah, also I had given Michelle that Bjork CD and she texted me to say thanks. We texted back and forth throughout the night and actually had a pretty interesting conversation. Then I got another one of those weird "alien messages" so I told her I didn't get the text figuring she would resend it or something. Nothing. I don't get her. Well, I guess now I won't have to.
Me and Carl hung out and played Burnout for a while. I thought about telling him, but I just wanted to crash cars instead. It helped get my mind off of it. So did Smallville and Lost.

9/11

2006-09-21T03:24:00.000-04:00

I'm dying. I finally went to the doctor's because of those weird headaces I've been having, so he did some test and foud a tumor in my brain. He offered me all the options - chemo, radiation, blah blah. After seeing how all that went for Dad I swore I wouldn't do it, and I'm sticking to it. I'm sure it wouldn't work anyway. The doctor said I'v got about a month or so. If I'm lucky, after that I'll just go quietly in my sleep. I drove around for hours after marching band and lessons waiting for it to really sink in. It hasn't yet. When I finally got home everyone was sleeping, which was just as well, I didn't want to talk about it. I just want to sleep.

Intro

2006-09-21T03:18:00.000-04:00

Ok, at first this was supposed to be for poems and stuff, but then I thought of a better use for it. The following are my journal entries from the past week or so.