<< THE HOGS OF ENTROPY, KEEPERS OF THE GLORIOUS TEXT FILE PRESENT >> _// _// _// _//////// _// - oink! _// _// _// _// _// _// - moo!! _// _// _// _// _// _// _// - oink! _// _////// _// _// _// _////// _// - moo!! _// _// _// _// _// _// _// - oink! _// _// _// _// _// _// _// - moo!! _/ _// _// _/// _//////// _// - oink! << HOE ISSUE #118 >> >> "so much to live for, so much to die for, right?" << by -> kheldar ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- 6:33 am. Mike gets up groggily, grabs a pair of pants and a shirt, and heads toward the bathroom. In use. "No problem, I'll just grab something to eat," Mike thinks to himself. He walks down the stairs, now almost fully awake. He eats breakfast like everyone else in the entire town, not even thinking of how much this day will be just like the others. The same routine, the same conversations, the same life. Angst? Mike doesn't have a clue. Never heard the word, probably couldn't even spell it. After Mike spends his designated 10 minutes in the shower, cleans up, packs his lunch and his milk money, he hops into the car cheerfully and rides to school. He innocently says hi to everyone whom he knows, not noticing their tone of voice, or even their facial expression. Why should he pay attention to that? I mean, everyone's nice to Mike! It's all the same, thought Mike doesn't realize it. There's nothing behind why he's always picked last for sports. When people make fun of him, it's all in good humor. Why should he get mad at anything? He has his whole life ahead of him. Now, Mike is your typical seventh grader. A little on the short side, and a tad bit smarter than his peers. He doesn't really hang out with the sports crowd, because they tend to ignore him, but that's because he hasn't proven himself, right? Now it's about this time that Mike begins to notice members of the opposite sex. Hmmm... Girls? Hey, look at that, she's being nice to me! He thinks, as he's invited to a party. "Next Friday at 8? I'll be there!" He says with a smile. Mike likes to smile. He has lots to be happy about. Party. Fun. Music. Dancing. Hey, she asked me to dance! Look, I'm dancing with a girl! After the party. Wow, that girl called me! I must be special to her. She likes me! Yeah, I have a real good chance with her, but I think I'll wait a little while. No need to be impatient! And so it goes. Week after week. Hanging around the girl, waiting for her to make the first move. "She's just shy like me." "Maybe she wants me to make the first move." "She likes me, but doesn't think I like her." And so on, and so forth. Keep making the excuses, Mike. Sunrise, sunset. Sunrise, sunset. HEY! Why's she talking with that guy? She never laughs that much at my jokes! Why isn't she talking to me? That's not fair, I thought you were my friend! Looks like she's drained you, bud. So Mike goes and talks to his friend. He doesn't quite realize that the "friend" doesn't like him that much. He's a bit too civil, but he doesn't quite seem to notice. "You should ask her out, d00d!" "Yeah, good idea, but what about that other guy?" "Ummm... Ask her out, d00d!" Another month. It's been what, 6 now? Another, and another. You feel yourself feeling worse and worse, don't you Mike? You only talk to her about once a week. Every other week. Every month. Look at your heart change it's little red hues into violet, blue, purple, black. Look at your mood swings, look at your depression. Look at her rip your heart out and stomp on it, Mike. Take a real good look. Know you think you know what angst is, don't you? Yeah, you sing the same old song. It happened to seventy thousand other people at the exact same time it happened to you, but you don't know that, and you wouldn't comprehend it if you did. Look at you. You sit at home writing in your little purple and black diary, with yellow stripes. Yeah, you've got so much angst, don't you? Well, if you weren't the same little prepackaged product maybe you would be, but you came in a box, my friend, and you're just a serial number. You may as well not exist, right? Yeah, you'd be so much better off dead, wouldn't you? Nothing to live for, right? You think so, but in time, you'll forget, and if you don't, you won't care. In fact, you won't care much about anything.... that is, until you turn into an adult, and conform to what society wants you to be like. You have your own office with a window, right? Yeah, I'll bet. Catch you on the flip side, my friend. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- * (c) HoE publications. HoE #118 -- written by kheldar -- 6/11/97 *