Friday, November 14, 2008

[Chapter 2] Wakeup.

Father Time is a precarious entity. He possesses an innate penchant to surrender no regard for his constituents who live and die by his every passing breath. With the clout to speed up or slow down each moment of our lives, his sense of humor is truly satiric.


I awoke to the familiar and yet astonishingly brash sound of my half beaten in alarm clock resonating throughout the small space that I pay to call my bedroom.

I could tell by the warmth at the foot of my bed that the time was well past noon, as the sun had already begun to shine in through my westward facing window.

As I attempted to open my eyes, which were currently glued shut by way of my contacts, the events of the preceding night slowly began to reconvene in my mind as if by the onset of a slow creeping fog. Fortunately, the consequences of my actions left me with a migraine fit for that of the noble class, forcing me to dwell with the lesser of the two evils. I’d be a happy bearer to physical pain over psychological turmoil any day.

While the machine at which we prompt to do our bidding each morning oscillated each high-pitched screech with a sense of pride as if it were a child at his first kindergarten Christmas pageant, each permeating tone made my head feel as if screws were being tightened down upon it by some cruel form of medieval torture device.

As I stumbled out of bed to silence the intrepid alarm, my Blackberry (which was currently perched inconveniently upon the nightstand opposite my bed) decided to join in on the unsolicited fun, alerting me of an inbound text message.

After maneuvering acrobatically around the disarray of shit littering the floor on which I attempt to make a living, I was finally able to silence each of the devices that claim to make my life easier.

Sinking back into my desk chair, as the echoing tone in my eardrums faded to silence, I warily engaged my mobile phone only hoping to find that my apparently now full inbox would not contain any urgent messages requiring me to make my already half-wasted day a productive one.
“New message from: Twitter
@facemakerkaj: Overheard: I'll pray for you. Person 2: please don’t. God hates me and it will only further complicate it.”
“Where the hell does my roommate find these people?” I muttered to myself.
“New message from: Twitter
@ijustine: My flesh is burning off my body right now it's so hot out.”
“That’s actually, really hot; in a weird, sadistic type of way.”
“New message from: Sarah F
heyy, what ru doin tonite? we’re havin some people over for a halloween party.. you should come ;-)”
“And that, my friends, will make for a very interesting night.”

You see, Sarah is the type of girl who tends to have a limited base of reasoning for contacting me. While her stated intentions may appear to be rather insipid, most of the time they are ambiguous as well.

Sarah, being an ex-flame who is yet to be fully extinguished, the history between the two of us could honestly be summed up, written on a flashcard, and then proceed to be tossed in the trash.

Let me contemplate how to put this, bluntly.

We met.
We fucked.
I met another girl.
She cried.
We made up.
We dated.
She left me for her ex.
I cried.
We wiped the slate clean, and we agreed to disagree.

If only it were half as entertaining as I tend to make it sound.

It’s become a vicious loop that swings full-circle year after year. At times, I feel as if I’ve been sucked into some C-list teen drama on the CW with nothing short of self-indulgent high school characters played by 22 and 23 old actors.

There are times when Sarah will begin a conversation with a simple ‘hi’, and by the end of that same conversation I will find myself driving asininely to the liquor store to buy her and her underage counterparts a bottle of Bicardi Razz.

It’s that same rather annoying self-will leading me to believe that if by doing any favors for a seductress, such as herself, that the likelihood of sexual compensation will increase exponentially. Unfortunately, the truth of the matter is that 0 raised to any power remains aught, and regardless of my non-existent batting average in such situations I’m continuously swayed by my most primeval of instincts.

Yet, for some incomprehensible reason, again will I try. My persistence may be admirable to some, yet to others a sense of impetuousness reigns forth; and as my world begins to spin wildly out of control, I react the only way I know how.
“Compose SMS Text: Sarah F
Hey. I’ll see you tonight.”
I’ll be the one dressed as the dog, my tail concealed between my legs.

“I need help.”

Trey -AKA- The Mad Wordsmith


  1. I really enjoy your writing style and you had me hooked from the first post. It reminds me a bit of the style of Chuck Palahniuk and you seem like a very complex, layered person which comes through in your writing. I think as humans, we can all relate to the feeling of being that dog with our tail between our legs.

    I always look forward to your post and you should try and post at least once a week. Can't wait for the next one!

  2. Good Post!! I really like how you write. As for the Sarah situation i know how you feel, the buying alcohol situation has happened to me too. Stay strong.

  3. Sarah sounds like a self-indulgent ho who's addicted to mind-fucking you.

    Ironically, those type of people make for the best lays. Enjoy, my friend! ;-)

  4. I can't help to do anything but become completely engulfed in your story. Your narrative prose easily put me on the same wavelength as your character narrator. Even the visual presentation of the lines helps move your story. And telling the story without breaking the flow - with different voices of the narrator and actual "snippets" of twitter events - is very nice. (Obviously something I don't duplicate very well!)

    Producing a smooth flow of narration with rich and precise details and "just enough" words is no easy feat. You got a lot of good things going on here. I am, indeed, "hooked." This is good stuff.

  5. Hi! I love this post,your wit while describing the whole scenario is unique, fresh and compelling.I am quickly becoming totally hooked on your posts and will be visiting time and least to make sure 'Sarah' doesnt get you into any trouble :)

  6. takes me back to the good ol' days of having fuque-buddies.

    You'll get through it soon enough.....and then kindly look back on it :D Great post!

  7. Again, awesome my friend. You never cease to amaze me with how you weave words....plain and simple. This blog post brings to the surface a relationship that was deliciously toxic I had that went on for a few years.....I believe I will blog about that today! Thank you for your inspiration :)

    Waiting on the next post.......

  8. Very entertaining. And not an entirely unfamiliar scene for me.

    That's either good or bad. I'm not sure.

    Thanks for coming by my site. I look forward to reading more of yours.

  9. instead of using the dictionary, thesaurus, and a list of your SAT words why don't you concentrate on being your true self, talking about actual facts (aka the sun rises in the east) and and maybe using those nice long words in context correctly for a change.

    as for carolyn. don't judge people by the ones that were rejected


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