Monday, 21 March 2011

  • Xanga,

    It's been real. 

    It's time to say goodbye. Thank you for everything. It's not you, it's me. Actually, I think it is me. But we've been together for so long, and I just feel like we've grown apart. All those insecurities that we tried to hide from each other, just got blown of proportion a little too fast. I hope you understand. 

    I think you'll be okay.

    If you ever want to talk, well, I would look elsewhere. That's what i've been doing and it feels really good. A fresh start.

    At least there are plenty of others to share in your misery. 

    If they come looking for me, I'll be over at my new place. It's on a different avenue. 

    www.dshinabarger.wordpress.com 

    What I would do? I would get a google reader, so that you can follow everyone's blogs from one convenient location. www.google.com/reader . 

     

    Check it out. 

    Farewell, my friend. 

Wednesday, 09 March 2011

  • 3.9.2011

    Do you ever have those days where you wake up from a dream in which you were drowning? I woke up this morning with parched lips, a sore neck, and a headache up the wazoo. I pulled the pillow off from over my head and looked at my phone. 8:15. After a few moments of thought, I watched Andrew ready himself for class, and assessed the situation.

    You never really feel fully refreshed after sleeping on a couch. It seems like ever since I came to Spring Arbor last spring semester that that’s all I really sleep on. I’m sure the miserable weather outside doesn’t help.

    I quickly determined that I wouldn’t go to class in the morning. Our classwork for the day consisted in watching the movie ‘The Killing Fields’. I remember watching that first thing in the morning on friday, and the frustrating feeling of despair that I had the rest of the day. It’s certainly not the best way to wake up. I didn’t want that feeling again today. One of these days I’m supposed to write another enlightening movie entitled ‘Schindler’s List’. I’ve had it on my computer for a long time, but I still haven’t had the opportunity to watch it. Maybe tonight.

    I went to chapel and as Matthias’s dad spoke, the three students next to me observed me. It was interesting trying to make eye contact with all three of them at the same time. They said I shouldn’t go to class in the afternoon, and I don’t really have much motivation to.

    “Today is totally an indoor day”, Beau said, and I couldn’t agree more. Drinking tea and cuddling up with a cultural book sounds real good right now.

  • I feel a wordpress coming soon...


    A Key! A Flash!

    It’s been a waiting game since the beginning of April. That was the beginning of this waiting game, the beginning of the s
    eason. We were new around these parts, but we certainly were not alone. With each sunset spent together we had learned we wouldn’t be able to watch sunrises in unison. This didn’t stop us from staying up all night. Life here in the big city can be mighty interesting. We heard people passing us say that this was the big apple, but we weren’t so convinced. It seems like all the people down there just oppress the earth beneath their imported soles.

    I watched a dandelion growing. They sure grow fast, those guys. He started small and grew an inch here, half an inch there, finally reaching his full potential. He must have grown up to the middle of their shins. i saw him reaching skyward when one ordinary June day, he was trampled on by a man hailing a cab. “Taxi!” the main cried, oblivious to his maiming behavior. I could tell he wouldn’t survive. The flower, that is. He turned brown and wilted. I’ve seen the way they are supposed to grow, wispy and willowy like a flag in the sky. Their white tops fly up in the air. Sometimes they float right by, mocking me.

    I think it was about time for my retirement. Hm. Perhaps I should say my birth. Maybe that’s what I mean. After all, we had been trained for months for one short day. Our mission was concise: Catch the wind and land at a predetermined location on the ground. My spot was across the street right near a parking meter. An oak used to be there, but they cut it down because it was a little crooked. They even took his stump.

    I was sure I would make it, for they had taught us to study the wind patterns. I assimilate well around here, but at this point I just wanted out. I had watched others do what it takes to make it. I knew this day would be my chance.

    With a rush of wind, I jumped off. I had my sights on the location across the street. I was falling and twisting towards a car, praying desperately for the wind to catch. A large white cargo van drove by and provided a gust, flailing me into the air, nearer to my location. With finality and a burst of strength I reached and reached to land at the target. I had to be precise, or my future was grim. I neared the curb, and at the last second, the wind kicked me up! I went up past the parking meter, past the pedestrian with his leather briefcase, ready to land! I am a maple key falling, and at least I can twirl!

    And twirl I did. I twirled and twirled, landing a toes length away from my intended location. This was dirt, and should work for my future. I reached below and felt the most, firm earth. I latched permanently to my final destination, my last resting place. I was finally home.

  • Olive Garden Class.


    It isn’t every day you get to wash dishes for four hours. That’s what Jace told me when I met him. Grab, stack, spray, and clean the pasta-filled plates. Those plates covered with salads that haven’t been touched and noodles that have barely been overturned. It’s a mad rush to grab the next dishes. The worst part? The way the waiters won’t make eye contact.

    We try to make work interesting.

    I’m a robot washing dishes. One day we asked every water who they would call if they were arrested. Once we asked who our state governor was. Or if they believed in a higher power, or Jesus, or aliens. No matter what we asked them there were no answers. They come in with headsets on and hands full of dishes. Not a word. I once thought I connected eyesight with one of them when he dropped of a fat stack, but it turns out he was just spacing out. Maybe his girlfriend broke up with him. I hope so.

    We always hypothesize what it would be like to drink everything that came through.

    I was sent to the Dean’s office today when my teacher overheard me talking about a party tomorrow. I won’t arrive until late because i’m closing alone. Just like tonight, I close alone.

    It was 8:45. I had been behind these horizontal metal bars since five. That’s three and a half hours of soaking hands, soaking shoes, soaking pants. It’s like running home from school in a thunderstorm. It doesn’t matter how fast you go, you still get wet.

    I started drinking. It started with ice and turned to water, soda, then wine. I kept drinking, staring at the waiters as they continued bringing in the stacks of dishes. I was quickly past the point of functionality. I needed the bathroom, but I had to constantly fight the rush of dishes. There’s always a nine o’clock rush. When everybody leaves.

    I held it for too long. I stopped drinking, but started feeling sick. My stomach, I tried to ignore it, but it grew as I moved, like a twenty ounce Pepsi bottle being shaken. I stopped and crouched down in the corner, looking away from the dishes. I moaned as purple and orange liquid rushed out my mouth and onto the stained tile. I saw all of the dishes backed up.

    I stood up and went back to my station, skeptically examining the growing mountain of dishes. Then I thought something profound. Or at least, I think I did. It’s hard to remember at this point.

    With that, I hung my apron up, took my soaking shoes off, and walked out the back door.

Monday, 07 March 2011

  • Lumenocular

    3.5.2011.

     

    We arrived late at the Lumenocular Music Festival. We got caught up with doing some homework in the library. Valerie and I did. After reading an old time story of a nine year old girl on a farm while sitting in the out of place beanbag chair in the library, we left towards the car, to drive to the Spring Arbor Café. We had just called and they said that it was 9:00pm. It was 7:55.

     

    Valerie mentioned something about the music festival, so we waltzed on over, seeing that the award ceremony began at 8PM. Her roommate was one of the main hosts, or MC’s of the thing. As well as Katie, and Nate. Those jokesters. I took a little picture with my iPhone of Nate holding up a sort of cheap disposable Frisbee. I don’t know what I’ll do with the picture, now that I stopped using facebook. It’s not that I deleted my account, I just stopped using it. But that’s a different story.

     

    We walked through the front doors to find a small party loitering in the lobby. We asked them what was going on, and if we could walk inside. They said yes, they were just doing the awards. So we walked in on the left and sat directly in front of Larry, Dave, Taylor, and Beau. Those great chumps from Ormston 2.

     

    The awards ceremony began shortly. The first award went to Brandon McCarrel for the best film under 5 minutes. Taylor Keating won the best video of 5-15 minutes. He ddn’t win the video with best actor. Instead, a documentary won the video with best actor, which prompted Brandon McCarrel to walk off stage, shaking his head with a confused look on his face.

     

    Before each award, we slapped our knees with a sound similar to a fish being dropped on the ground. Like dropping a small sunfish on a dock after catching it. When the rewards came, the anticipation grew. The question quickly became: Who would get the best of the fest? This award was the most valued, shortly followed by jen’s flick pick. With growing excitement, Taylor, the director of of already 3 awards, told us that if he won the best of the fest that he would stand on the podium.

     

    When they announced that Taylor was the winner, he ran up with excitement. With his little vest and glasses on, he jumped on the stage on the right, avoiding the conventional stairs to the left. He pulled the chair set up mid-stage and proceeded to step up on the chair, then up on the podium. With alarm, Dori stepped back, shocked, but still pleased to give him the award.  He held the award up high, and with a sense of confidence smiled and looked at the audience. The podium beneath his feat trembled and shook. I thought that he would topple over, for sure. Topple down onto the podium, onto the stage, and onto the auditorium floor. That would be like a 12 foot drop. I wonder how many meters that is. Or centimeters.

     

    I’m finally six feet tall, and here I am planning to move out of the country. That means I’ll have to grow to some sort of different level, because our standard will be different. 

  • Visit ONE_DAVID_S's Xanga Site
    • Name: David
    • Location: Crystal Lake, Illinois, United States
    • Birthday: 9/24/1990
    • Gender: Male
    • Member Since: 5/30/2005
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