“It’s Not Conceited If It’s True”

Belly laughing. Laughing till your abdomen is bound in knots. Killing yourself over the stupidest, loveliest, spur of the moment riff. In five minutes it’ll be nothing. But now, oh my gawd, now you’re Abbot and Costello, Laurel and Hardy. You’re Dean and Jerry, Mike and Elaine, the two Ronnies … you may very well be the funniest people in the world. You’re dancing in your shallow hilarity like you’re the first to relish in the absurdity of the spontaneous and uninhibited.

You’re jolting.

“Wasaga ’05 … Figi ’06!”

Fandango?

Putas versus Vipers

Courier de Bois!

It’s been almost ten years since I started high-school. Admitting that makes me feel older then it should. Because in grade 9 all I wanted to do was grow up and move on. I thought University was the answer. That High School was an asinine waiting room with uncomfortable chairs and a jammed window that no one could ever get open. It didn’t let me be me, man! That’s what I thought…cause I assumed I was supposed to think that. Because I was sooo original. Hindsight’s 20/20 of course and high-school was actually amazing. Most of the people there were immature assholes who thought, and still think, the world was made just for them. But besides the people with their heads up their asses the friends I made are some of the smartest and most beautiful people I’ve ever met.

I don’t even feel cliche writing this. bthe memories and my fondness for their company comes so readily. It’s cliche but I wish I could’ve appreciated it more. I wish I hadn’t been so quick out of the starting gate at the end of it all. Because I’m lost more then ever. Back then, with them, I was so sure of myself. So confident and proud. Now I’m meek and distracted. Where did the verve go?

Inside jokes. They’re worth it. They’re the most honest language there is.

No matter who you become, where you go, what you do … I’ll understand you perfectly.

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