Category: Chapters

Tonight I lost my virginity. Well, not really (the last frontier still remains unconquered), but I did attend my first Rocky Horror Picture Show event. That is something everyone must do once. I was surrounded by transvestites and women in clothing the likes of which isn’t seen outside of Fredricks of Hollywood catalogs :-). Next year I plan to go in drag, and that my friends, is damn scary.

I’ve been to theatre and symphonies, but THAT was culture. – Jason MacDonald, on returning from the Rocky Horror Picture Show

An old friend recently told me she had had a crush on me for a long time. She also broke this news to two other of my close friends, and she then asked us why we hadn’t done anything about it. We can’t win at this game, can we? If we like a girl, it turns out they just want to be friends, and if we resolve to just be friends, it turns out they like us. I don’t develop crushes on my female friends out of respect, not disrespect.

Surfing Everything2.com’s archives, I came across something that made me stop in my tracks. “There is no post-game.” I sat and thought about this for a while, as I am rather prone to doing. How would you play differently, knowing that it was the last game of the season? How would you live, knowing you had no tomorrow? Invariably you play or act differently. My life is not a continuation of some chain of events; it is a unique experience that I must create. The meaning of life is not to be a good person, not to be a good father, or to be rich, although it can include all of those. The meaning of life is to play this great game as it should be played, to the fullest.

“If you are so patriotic, why didn’t you ever show it before? This is the exact, insane opposite of being a fair-weather fan. You only like your football teams when they do well, but only like your country when it’s bombed? You people are nuts!” – NYU Laura

The things you own, end up owning you. Hence, when you stole my car, and burned out in my driveway, the things I owned ended up owning me, causing me to irrationally punch you in the face. The unimportant material objects, mere tools, such as my laptop, become more important than they should, causing me to put a password on them. So if the things I own end up controlling my life, then why should I own them? All I’ve done thus far is punch my best friend, and piss off my brothers. But when I enter a mosh pit, and have nothing to lose but my consciousness, where the clothing I wear I don’t care about, the wallet is empty except for a license, and my keys are clipped onto my pants, then I am free.