I want a trip to Vegas, anything goes in The Unearthed Diary of MC D-Mic Control

  • Jan. 24, 2023, 7:34 a.m.
  • |
  • Public

Roll up on Octoberfest in brand-new lederhosen.

I want to know where the girls are. I want to know the surprise hit of the summer. I want to know where all of the fun has gone. I want to know who killed the mimes, who stopped all time, who squeezed the lime into my eye when I wasn’t paying attention. Eureka! I’ve done it again. Ladies & gentlemen, behold! My latest invention!

I spend my days with the feral, black-eyed, ghost children of this town, the ones who haven’t been able to figure out how to play the game of popularity. They don’t understand unwritten rules or body language, and most of the time, they choose to just wallow in emotional distress because taking any action towards any resolution mostly results in abject failure. We sit in a room five days a week for the better part of six hours listening to Tibetan droning bowls, or bells, or a note on some stringed instrument played in continuum for minutes and minutes and minutes. Time then makes no sense. We continue to exist in this purgatory of meaningless academia and obligatory pep talks until time determines if we’ve failed again or if we get to celebrate some small achievement. It ends up becoming a game that everyone learns how to play, and by the end of the school year, it is very clear who has succeeded and who has failed. I’ve been in education for over 25 years, and it makes less sense each August.

What about the protocol? What about the by-(laws)? What if you leave? What if I die? What if we both forget about what it means to try? When I was in high school, my understanding of romantic relationships was stunted, to say the least. I believed that if I poured myself into the relationship, and trusted completely, true love would blossom and the future would be set. My first relationship lasted over a year - sophomore to the beginning of senior year - and ended when my girlfriend stopped returning my phone calls and then danced with another guy at the Friday mixer. My heart was broken, then, more because I probably believed it should be broken than anything truly lasting. My subsequent relationships throughout my senior year usually didn’t last very long because I didn’t pour myself into them, so my partners got bored quickly.


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