(Readers beware - this makes absolutely no sense)
You may have a problem when you forget to check for cars before crossing the road. There is the music of course - always the music. You can't hear the cars, so you have to look left and right - maybe left again just before you cross - at least that's what you were taught when you were a kid.
If you don't check and you're on a busy road there's a certain risk you'll get hit by a car. Or maybe the first car will manage to stop in time but the second car won't and will consequently crash into the first one and so on and people will be injured and their cars damaged and they will be delayed and annoyed and it's all because you were too distracted to check for cars before crossing the road.
So you will quickly run off and hope that no one knew or recognized you and you tell yourself it wasn't really your fault, tho you can't really make that work because it was, it really was, there is no excuse, you should have looked but your mind was elsewhere.
So to distract yourself from the chaos you just caused you go to the mall. Everyone goes to the mall. There are shops where you can spend money you don't have, and there are various groups of teenagers hanging about that you can observe and draw amateur conclusions about youth subcultures.
People love to say clever and insightful things about youth subcultures. Usually they are based on their own experiences as teenagers (often a whole generation previously) and the feelings of superiority they draw from them ("back then we were the real thing, look at the little wannabes...").
But you're not like that. You just observe and think wise, detached and only slightly cynical thoughts. You won't buy anything in any of the many shops cuz the rent is due next week so you will leave after a short while. Observing wannabe grownups is entertaining only for a very limited time.
So you go home. The TV is as boring as always so you decide to go to bed, where the guilt of having caused so much distress to so many people devours you. There seems to be only one solution - you have to put an end to your life. The question of how to go about this is soon answered when you find daddy's gun in his bottom desk drawer.
So you're to blame for how many corpses in the morgue? *g*
Posted by: Katja on Fri January 14, 2005 at 7:34
No one died. Well except the person the narrator addresses.
Posted by: Clarissa on Fri January 14, 2005 at 20:19