You like depressed journal entries? No? Then don't read this one today. Come back in a few days.
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(me) walked out of (me) last summer session exam on Friday night like a zombie. (me) eyes weren't blinking, (me) had no expression on (me) face, and (me) was taking (me) steps a little slower than usual. (me) was undergoing a simultaneous pull towards very aroused feelings of accomplishment and failure. (me) had passed (me) last exam with sure-footed ease, so that should have felt wonderful. But at the same time, (me) couldn't enjoy that. Because (me) found out that morning that (me) appeal had hit a major impasse, and that (me) still didn't have credit for an Englilsh class (me) took last year. So, you see, (me) should have been happy, because as far as (me) knew a month ago, August 16th would have been (me) last day of University for life. But it didn't happen that way, and (me) was feeling pretty resentful.
And now for another installment of....
One paragraph short story fiction theatre
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So, just a short while ago I had the inspiration to sit by the river and watch the geese. That's what well-adjusted, unemployed people who've spent their mornings looking for work are supposed to do. Sit on a bench, feed geese and wait for a homeless derelict to offer puzzling yet sage advice. I can't hardly wait for the piss smelly and unshaved scruffy oracle to get here. Then there will some golden nugget of corn-in-the-shit wisdom that gets me back on my feet, reunites me with lost loved ones, and starts the happy ending. I mean, that's how it always worked on the Flintstones. The derilect will be lovable, because I know he's a tragic figure who can't follow his own advice, yet he's learned the tough lesson and tells you how to save your life before bad luck can shit another steamy pile on your head (--always sans golden nugget corn). I figure he'll be along in a day or two. In the meanwhile, I look good feeding the geese. I'm in a greeting card illustration with fluffy clouds and big white birds. I could do this for hours. I probably look inspirational to the lunch crowd.
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(me) walked out of (me) last summer session exam on Friday night like a zombie. (me) eyes weren't blinking, (me) had no expression on (me) face, and (me) was taking (me) steps a little slower than usual. (me) was undergoing a simultaneous pull towards very aroused feelings of accomplishment and failure. (me) had passed (me) last exam with sure-footed ease, so that should have felt wonderful. But at the same time, (me) couldn't enjoy that. Because (me) found out that morning that (me) appeal had hit a major impasse, and that (me) still didn't have credit for an Englilsh class (me) took last year. So, you see, (me) should have been happy, because as far as (me) knew a month ago, August 16th would have been (me) last day of University for life. But it didn't happen that way, and (me) was feeling pretty resentful.
And now for another installment of....
One paragraph short story fiction theatre
--------------------------------------
So, just a short while ago I had the inspiration to sit by the river and watch the geese. That's what well-adjusted, unemployed people who've spent their mornings looking for work are supposed to do. Sit on a bench, feed geese and wait for a homeless derelict to offer puzzling yet sage advice. I can't hardly wait for the piss smelly and unshaved scruffy oracle to get here. Then there will some golden nugget of corn-in-the-shit wisdom that gets me back on my feet, reunites me with lost loved ones, and starts the happy ending. I mean, that's how it always worked on the Flintstones. The derilect will be lovable, because I know he's a tragic figure who can't follow his own advice, yet he's learned the tough lesson and tells you how to save your life before bad luck can shit another steamy pile on your head (--always sans golden nugget corn). I figure he'll be along in a day or two. In the meanwhile, I look good feeding the geese. I'm in a greeting card illustration with fluffy clouds and big white birds. I could do this for hours. I probably look inspirational to the lunch crowd.
B) man, no joke, i've totally gotten such nuggets as you describe from insane yet brilliant homeless characters myself. once on a bus in seattle and once in a laundromat in tempe, az, among others. absolutely amazing. i hope your wait for such an encounter (if that is what you feel is desirous) is fruitful. in the meanwhile, what do the geese have to say? anything?
3) and lastly, a *hug* to you pal!
****for your enjoyment an embedded homage to chevy chase in caddy shack appears above! can you detect?****