Sassy Snake #2
This summer he bought a Che Guevara t-shirt. It was time to be a revolutionary. And he heard Che was a socialist.
This summer was going to allow him to try something different. He would change the way his life had sucked, develop a sense of fashion, maybe even dye his hair. It was all going to be different, and this summer was the time for it.
His Che t-shirt replaced the litany of hooded sweatshirts that he wore as armor against a world that he still hadn’t figured out in his 20 years. He knew he was cool, ‘cause so was Che.
For years, he believed in the monotony of the everyday. Where Winter, was Fall, was Spring, was Summer. His golden thread was pain and impermanence.
Through Elementary school, he rolled with a group of close knit friends. They spent everyday together. His best friend was a kid named Nathan, and they were going to be zoologists. They fanatically spent nights with each other and wrote reports about animals. Their motto was, “It’s always worth a try, except on Christmas Eve.” Which allowed them to have a lot of sleep overs.
But the summer during their transition to middle school, something changed. Maybe it was his new glasses, it could have been his new braces, it could be some shit that is unexplainable in its mystery. All he knew, was that Nathan fucking disappeared from his life over the course of that summer.
His life was full of losses, and summer had its fair share. But this summer was going to be different. The first morning of summer, he woke up and went running. He didn’t run for very long, but his focus was on the future. Eventually, he would run for miles every morning. He got back and did push-ups, and crunches, and pull-ups. Not very many, but the present didn’t matter- it was all for the future.
He was going to be famous. He would appear on reality television. Everyone would coo over how cool he was. How hip he had become. He wouldn’t be awkward anymore, he would be a well adjusted revolutionary. His grades would improve, and his bills would get paid. Because this summer it was all going to change.
He took to carrying around a composition book. He would fill it with the quips, insights, and stories he collected. Eventually, he would write a book. A primer in changing the world. In grabbing your own destiny and running with it.
The summer continued, and the composition book spent more time on his desk than in his pocket. He eventually sacrificed running for more sleep and a few more cigarettes. Don’t worry he told himself, tomorrow I’ll start again.
Because the present didn’t matter- it was all for the future.
He still wore his t-shirt with pride. He was still going to be a revolutionary. Because this summer was going to be different. This summer everything was going to change.
Soon, the hoodies reentered his clothing rotation. Fashion was something for supermodels. And dye was so expensive.
He felt like a failure. And he was right. Tragically hip, a dystopic vision of the comodified world, where credibility is sold in t-shirt form. But none of his oh-so-awkward posturing was the point. What mattered was that summer had allowed him to snap his golden thread. Now the monotony of the everyday was working in his favor. He just had to keep trying.
There is a chance that what he will become is everything that is wrong with what he idealizes. Archetypes always have flaws. But for the first time in his sick, sad life . . . he has something. This summer everything IS different. It might be tragic, but for now, it's good.
This summer was going to allow him to try something different. He would change the way his life had sucked, develop a sense of fashion, maybe even dye his hair. It was all going to be different, and this summer was the time for it.
His Che t-shirt replaced the litany of hooded sweatshirts that he wore as armor against a world that he still hadn’t figured out in his 20 years. He knew he was cool, ‘cause so was Che.
For years, he believed in the monotony of the everyday. Where Winter, was Fall, was Spring, was Summer. His golden thread was pain and impermanence.
Through Elementary school, he rolled with a group of close knit friends. They spent everyday together. His best friend was a kid named Nathan, and they were going to be zoologists. They fanatically spent nights with each other and wrote reports about animals. Their motto was, “It’s always worth a try, except on Christmas Eve.” Which allowed them to have a lot of sleep overs.
But the summer during their transition to middle school, something changed. Maybe it was his new glasses, it could have been his new braces, it could be some shit that is unexplainable in its mystery. All he knew, was that Nathan fucking disappeared from his life over the course of that summer.
His life was full of losses, and summer had its fair share. But this summer was going to be different. The first morning of summer, he woke up and went running. He didn’t run for very long, but his focus was on the future. Eventually, he would run for miles every morning. He got back and did push-ups, and crunches, and pull-ups. Not very many, but the present didn’t matter- it was all for the future.
He was going to be famous. He would appear on reality television. Everyone would coo over how cool he was. How hip he had become. He wouldn’t be awkward anymore, he would be a well adjusted revolutionary. His grades would improve, and his bills would get paid. Because this summer it was all going to change.
He took to carrying around a composition book. He would fill it with the quips, insights, and stories he collected. Eventually, he would write a book. A primer in changing the world. In grabbing your own destiny and running with it.
The summer continued, and the composition book spent more time on his desk than in his pocket. He eventually sacrificed running for more sleep and a few more cigarettes. Don’t worry he told himself, tomorrow I’ll start again.
Because the present didn’t matter- it was all for the future.
He still wore his t-shirt with pride. He was still going to be a revolutionary. Because this summer was going to be different. This summer everything was going to change.
Soon, the hoodies reentered his clothing rotation. Fashion was something for supermodels. And dye was so expensive.
He felt like a failure. And he was right. Tragically hip, a dystopic vision of the comodified world, where credibility is sold in t-shirt form. But none of his oh-so-awkward posturing was the point. What mattered was that summer had allowed him to snap his golden thread. Now the monotony of the everyday was working in his favor. He just had to keep trying.
There is a chance that what he will become is everything that is wrong with what he idealizes. Archetypes always have flaws. But for the first time in his sick, sad life . . . he has something. This summer everything IS different. It might be tragic, but for now, it's good.
posted by Anonymous at 9:24 AM
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