sou ya

So yeah.

This is what I think.

I have this weird thing. and it's not something im proud of or that i'm ashamed of, It's kind of, just there, you know, reader?
There's this group of people, I couldn't even put a cap on it, name specific people, they may have receded into my memory. Sure I could name a few of them but there'd be no point, and that's not the point of this rambling anyway. But the thing is, and I beg you not to jump to a conclusion here, I've always, even since i've left california in my rear view mirror and will likely not see many of them again (not by choice, mind you, just by the way these things work. 6 billion folks in this here marble we're sittin on, lots of people to take up the space around you). but i feel this desire to prove something to them. prove that i did things my way and i came out on top. that i am....well yeah. they didn't do anything actively against me, never fought, never nothing of that sort. I just always felt like, well, they didnt show me any respect in their minds. I guess what I'm saying is that i want kind of for in a few years them to hear of me or see me or whatever and wish they had, um, something? i dont know, this is an incomplete theory about myself. but, y'know, most of them, they stayed in california. and i didn't, i came to a place knowing almost nothing about it, knowing exactly nobody, away from everyone, throwing myself into this pool of black, freezing, empty uncertainty, and i feel like i did it almost looking at them as they sat in their jacuzzi with all their friends and complained that it was warm and could you please get me a diet coke and some weed. and as I hear or read silly internet journals or whatever, and see they can't wait to go home, they miss so much home, bla bla, i say to myself, nobody else "you idiot, you didnt even leave the state, there's 25 people you already know from high school where you are, you left a month after I did, look what I had to do, i did it the hard way, you barely had to adjust to anything, you got it easy, and look at me, im not complaining, and i left all you fuckers behind, RESPECT ME god dammit." and this group, i felt, always thought that they were the shit, their music was "da music', dressed like they didnt care which in turn made them look cool, did school shit, OH YEAH. thats the other thing, the fucking school (its harmless, a good metaphor being that i was so concerned that this book i had kept for a year or so was going to have a fine of god knows how many cents, but i gave it back and pulled out my wallet and they said dont worry, no charge, signifying of course i took them way more seriously than they had taken me) who gave me the cold shoulder cause i didnt have fucking grades or took AP everything, wasn't in ASB (students of the world, dissociate!), and did my own shit outside of school, im going to prove to them, look, you fuckers, i can do it my way and i STILL came out on top of you, so screw you, baha. and i try to do it in EVERYTHING, i will write my way to their demise, musicise, social actionise, and you, what did you do, you played in the system, BAAAA, you sheep, and you came out on top, and i was the other kid who wore ethe sweatshirt who... well we don't know anything about him, he's going to some school on the east coast somewhere, who gives a shit, lets never hear from him again BUT YOU WILL HEAR FROM ME AGAIN, i will come back, and you will regret saying that, and I will win, only, and this is the kicker, dear reader, this right here is one hell of a kicker, I AM NOT GOING TO TELL THEM, they will find out on their own, see my name on the bestseller table, and they will think to themselves, him? him? him? and i will be in my cabin somewhere in Alaska or british columbia or on my kibbutz in the negev or in a secluded shack in rural hokkaido, and i will feel it, and i will have won, won, won, and then they will try and contact me, call me, with good intentions of course, and i will pick up the phone, answer the email, get up to open the door, and I will say, i will say, i will say, when they say "remember in high school?" and i will have a burning sensation starting in my feet and then my hair will catch fire, and in less than the smallest amount of measurable time i will relive that whole thing, relive how i was ignored by these people, how i was just average because the numbers said i was average, just a name in a story, nothing special, nothing bad, how i sat here this afternoon and released this hose which was tied in a knot so tightly that the water pressured its way through the rubber and ran down the green lining like sweat on the brow of a merchant worker, i unleashd the fury of the water, i will look in their kind blue and brown and green eyes, and i will say, i will scream, i will yell, whisper, say to myself and to the whole world and the veins that run underneath the ground, i will say