PatrickG
08-31-2007, 10:16 PM
Hey...
I've been in and out of school so much that this whole cycle is practically coded into my blood.
Summer's ending. I've seen the dying leaves trickling down into the darking lots. The rain has picked up, signaling a cold front on its way through
And here I am, at wit's end, scrambling as I take my last and only class left in my last semester in a town I thought I was leaving for the last time nearly a decade ago. All the memories are starting to get packed away in boxes and the first lasts and last firsts have started.
A good friend of mine, my roommate, was murdered six and a half months ago. The trial won't be long now.
And I've more or less finished a small project (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dkFjg463F3k) that I spent a couple of sleepless nights on. As with anything like this, by the time I finished, I realized ways I could have made it better.
These photos are his, for the most part, or of him. He managed to be in a remarkable number of his own photos and these aren't the best.
The whisper of "goodbye" still lingers on the air. Disappointment and frustration and change haven't stopped yet. I don't know if the world will ever seem right or this was just the first massive leap that I've made into how wrong and sickly and pale the world can be.
If anybody should have, could have taken a framed degree and a backpack full of dreams and changed the world, it would have been Bobby. He was a better student than I am or than most of my friends are. He had energy. He made life interesting for people who wouldn't naturally be inclined to look out the window or get in the car and drive on their own.
He was the only person I could talk to at 3AM when I couldn't sleep.
One more passage rite. One more season. One more graduation. One more goodbye. Memories fade. Vistas change. We orphan ourselves gradually from our past with every passing moment.
The world machine never stops.
I've been in and out of school so much that this whole cycle is practically coded into my blood.
Summer's ending. I've seen the dying leaves trickling down into the darking lots. The rain has picked up, signaling a cold front on its way through
And here I am, at wit's end, scrambling as I take my last and only class left in my last semester in a town I thought I was leaving for the last time nearly a decade ago. All the memories are starting to get packed away in boxes and the first lasts and last firsts have started.
A good friend of mine, my roommate, was murdered six and a half months ago. The trial won't be long now.
And I've more or less finished a small project (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dkFjg463F3k) that I spent a couple of sleepless nights on. As with anything like this, by the time I finished, I realized ways I could have made it better.
These photos are his, for the most part, or of him. He managed to be in a remarkable number of his own photos and these aren't the best.
The whisper of "goodbye" still lingers on the air. Disappointment and frustration and change haven't stopped yet. I don't know if the world will ever seem right or this was just the first massive leap that I've made into how wrong and sickly and pale the world can be.
If anybody should have, could have taken a framed degree and a backpack full of dreams and changed the world, it would have been Bobby. He was a better student than I am or than most of my friends are. He had energy. He made life interesting for people who wouldn't naturally be inclined to look out the window or get in the car and drive on their own.
He was the only person I could talk to at 3AM when I couldn't sleep.
One more passage rite. One more season. One more graduation. One more goodbye. Memories fade. Vistas change. We orphan ourselves gradually from our past with every passing moment.
The world machine never stops.