happy friday! 12:45 pacific time. let see what’s this workday’s got to do so far. in billing mode, co-worker in san jose office says it is sprinkling in his area, just bade farewell to 2 co-workers who are moving to the london office in the next couple of months, tried to save a subway customer who was just mocked by one of my people in our own language by translating the uttered demeaning context the other way, carpooling back to berkeley with a co-worker, lift weights and run, doing another paper before i go to see charles feelgood spin at ten15 tonight… that’s pretty much it so far.
i’m happy that i’m keeping my nightly running along college on track since last week. the only time that i didn’t make it was when my roommate’s close friend came to chill with us. that night was a trip, as a matter of fact. dj krush was playing while we were all taken out of the ordinary.
“i swear my wall heater smelled of gas.”
“then do you ever wake up feeling nauseated?”
“no, i turn it off as soon as i smell it.”
we stood in my room for quite a while. the vicissitude of its darkened walls engulfed me like i didn’t know what i just felt during the last few minutes. what were we doing there? we were all chuckling about my acute smell to such frivolous paranoia. darkness. ‘went back to my roommate’s room and chilled. i blabbered for a bit and dozed off into the empty side of life in a matter of seconds. i sporadically kept on asking why we went to my room.
ag kept on laughing. it’s been over a year since he graduated from nyu. he’s still waiting for the lsat results. living with his girlfriend down in l.a. makes him come up to the bay area every now and then.
“aww, shit,” dj krush’s second set played with our ears like every moment gradually eschewed our typical sensitivity. i woke up from the darkness that engulfed me, ‘still kept on asking why we went to my room. i felt dehydrated. the water sent numb signals down my throat as if every sensation was zilch. the empty capri sun box on the floor stared at me. i stared back at it. after minutes of heightened visual exasperation, i picked the box up and tried looking through its open holes. my roommate laughed at me, a similar manifestation of being neutered and sprayed.
what the hell was i trying to say? they kept on talking about how long my roommate keeps his clothes until he tosses them. i didn’t know what happened a couple seconds ago. it was the same texture of light that hit me straight in the eye, and i could still feel its rays crashing through my internal psyche. sort of like a juxtaposition of alkie and xenadrine. such mentality.
they kept on bobbing their heads to the mesmerizing beats. gc said dj krush would be spinning at the dna lounge but all the tickets were sold out. i said i’d catch him next time. he got confused talking to his friend with the same idea that he usurped from the internet site. his askance was wearing his attention from the victoria’s secret site that he just surfed into.
i kept silent. the movements were slow. the sound felt like i was leaning my head against the large speakers of a rave event. i kept on telling myself that i would have been doing my paper by now. the thumps blinded my ears into the void. i relinquished my open memories into the silence of the recurring turtablist white noise. it never felt like this before, once i thought i was immune. they said that underground hip hop artists take credit for the japanese dj’s beats. thriving to the surreal expression.
i went back to my room after ag said he could manage to drive back to burlingame. the beats crept into the casted shadows on the ceiling. i almost felt like giving it all to a significant other while rolling. darkness.
woke up at 6:30am. somehow i made it back. jumped to the shower and felt like nothing had happened that night. reality is perception: the impalpable mindset. i still need my brain to fulfill my dreams. running tonight.
we make a living by what we get, but a life by what we give –winston churchill