Commonplace 4

It's been a really long time since my last commonplace post. I think I'm not being as enthusiastic as I should be about sharing my deepest, darkest, personal secrets with everybody in the whole wide world. Nah, jus' jokes! It's just that I don't think there's much I can say that would pique other people's interests. Not stuff like a magazine article I read, or a chick book I read, but cool stuff; like I got into a street fight cool, or Holden Caulfield cool, I dunno.

Speaking of street fights, I got this scratch about a half or quarter of an inch below my eye. Sadly, it's not from a street fight. Before I went to sleep on Sunday night, I thought of what I could say about my scratch and how to make myself seem more badass. So here's what I thought of essentially: My favorite shaved ice place is a couple blocks down the hill that I live on and a few more towards the east. Well, the quickest way to get to the shaved ice place is through these two or three blocks that are really ghetto. So, I'm on my way back with my shaved ice, and these mokes are hanging outside of a house. They ask me for some shaved ice and I say "piss off". Well, that pisses them off, and one jumps me from behind and kind of claws at my face. I throw him off my back, ditch my shaved ice on the ground and make a run for it with a rugged battle scar to tell the tale. Lame, huh? Oh, I guess if I've already gone this far, I might as well tell you where I actually got it.

Truth is, I don't know exactly. But last Thursday at the Judo tournament during an exhibition match, I was playing some punk from kam school. Sometime during the match he gave me the scratch, and the thing that pisses me off is that I didn't even win the match. Yeah, that's right. I lost. God, I said. Geez, lay off. Oh, come on, gimme a break! Hey, just shut up already. Oh, you're done? Whoops, my bad.

I'm not sure exactly what I'm trying to say but, what I'm trying to say is, not much really. This has been a lot more like story time. God, knows I hate losing, but therein lies one of my greatest flaw as a person. If I'm bad at something, I want to get better. It's natural right. Oh, I'll try as much as any mediocre person to improve or whatever, but that's exactly the problem. The point isn't to be mediocre, it's to be great. That's why I have to make up queer stories to excuse myself from humiliation. I know the problem, but I'm just too lazy to fix it. Hell, I even know how to fix it, through hard work, but I'm too lazy. Arrgh!! I have everything in front of me in my youth, but I fail to do anything with it. It's like paying for a buffet, but only eating the salad or something I guess. Wow, I've just about killed what little pride I have left in me through that stupid rant. There, is that cool enough for you yet? Entertaining? Whatever...