"Clumsy" 2003-05-08 - 3:24 a.m.

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I wanted to talk about shallow things.

I wanted to talk about Silent Hill

or MTV's "Icon: Metallica"

or how I've finally decided that I'm sticking with guitar, and that's final

but I can't bring myself to

I don't really see the point

maybe I'll get around to writing about that stuff in my livejournal eventually; but not today

tonight the assignment for my Creative Writing course was to write about something that happened to me in my childhood

and I couldn't think of anything worth writing about

my childhood was so boring

the only interesting things that've happened to me have been in the last few years

before that

it's honestly like I was a different person

and I don't like to think about myself before I changed

and I mean, sure; there were things that happened to me that hold significance to me

but nothing that would make a good story

and not a whole lot that I can remember

because my memories are like watching someone else rather than seeing things from my own perspective

that's mildly depressing

but tonight I went to Beaver's(a local shitty music store, but they have picks for twenty five cents, so I got a couple), and in the few moments it took me to grab a couple picks, this kid that's about my age walks in and asks for bass strings

and while it took the elderly guy behind the counter much longer than it should've to get them; I just kind of stood behind this kid

he was about my age, had dirty brown hair that was still pretty short but looked like he was trying to grow out; wearing boots, faded black cut-off shorts, and an Opeth t-shirt

and the whole time I'm standing there my mind is screaming at me:

"TALK TO HIM!!!"

"ASK IF HE IS IN/WANTS TO BE IN A BAND!!"

"SAY SOMETHING!!"

and maybe it was just me but it looked kind of like he was thinking the same thing

but I couldn't

I just kinda stood there with two picks in one hand and two quarters in the other

and I was just thinking: "this could be your chance! This is the kind of situation you're always telling yourself you'd actually talk in!"

but I couldn't do it

and I've been beating myself up the whole damn night

I wish so bad I could go back and relive that one moment while the idiot behind the counter was picking out bass strings

I could hear the conversation in my head:

start off:"so you play bass, huh?"

him:"yeah"

me:"you in a band?"

him(hopefully):"no"

me:"do you wanna be in one?"

him(again, hopefully):"sure, what do you play?"

me:"I play guitar and sing"

him:"you write songs?"

and so forth

and it actually looked like that could've been the way it went down

but noooo

Goddamnit

stupid me

I can't believe I blew that

Goddamn anti-socialness

damnit

and I'm so tempted to just hang around Beaver's to see if that kid shows up again

damnit

Sweet Dreams

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