Providing developers and businesses with a reliable, easy-to-use cloud computing platform of virtual servers (Droplets), object storage ( Spaces), and more.
Life (part 2)
So you move on. Now you're in high school and your
animosity for your parents increases. It's natural.
You're not evil. You sometimes HATE them and just want
them gone. they restrict who you are, what you wear, what
you eat, who you hang out with, and EVERYTHING. NO, NO,
NO is constantly heard. but let's face it. if they
didnt' make you hate them then, then you wouldn't be where
you are now. but that doesn't fucking matter back then.
you escape to high school. you escape to a void of idiots
and best friends. high school steps up what middle school
already tweaked. but in high school the sooner you find
yourself the sooner you find happiness. you find you
group and finally you realize you belong. you sit
together at lunch and you joke with each other. you hang
out after school, and you're the first one with a car.
the fact that EVERYONE uses you for a ride doesn't matter
to you because they're within you circle of friends. they
liked you before and now it's amplified. you fly through
the warm spring air and now you're free. you go to kings
dominion you go to dairy queen, you get lost, you get
found, and you become closer friends. you hit rock bottom
together and you find "your" songs. you find your hatred
of songs. you hear a song 5 years after and sigh as you
remember how you and close friends laughed at something
completely inane(or so it seemed back then), and all you
can think of is......shit yeah....
SEX. fuck high school. screw work. I want to get some.
The testicles that so gently tapped your senses in middle
school are now clubbing your brain with an aluminum
baseball bat. You don't just WANT it you NEED it. you
envy the jock that is so self-confident that gets all the
chicks. you sit at home and surf the net. every hot girl
in high school runs through your fantasies. By 16 you want
nothing more than to get back into the place you came
from (the good old vagina). there's only one catch......only ONE
part of you
fits ;-). but shit.....you'll make do. FINALLY (or for a
lot of guys) not FINALLY. it happens. your life is
complete but for one stupid aspect.
Dances. What is the godddamned deal? Our whole lives we
have to participate in social gatherings. what's more is
that you HAVE TO HAVE the time of your life. You go to
the sweet 16 dance with a girl who's arm pits reak. you
skip her and her feelings for her friend from new york.
her friend hates the guy she's with and you two take off.
and no....it's not a fucking romantic exaggerated movie.
you fly down the street with your volvo and the city
lights make you feel like a growh up. you kiss once (at
the end) but mostly you talk. you feel like the end of
the graduate. you leave all of society behind, you leave
the time of your life behind, you leave "the one" behind,
and they all scream.....you'll regret....but you know then
as you think now.....that you never will. you are drowned
by her laughter at your jokes and that's all there is.
the songs that play during that time linger forever.
but it's not all beauty, sex, fun, and love. it's also
fighting. hating. watching movies that you shouldn't
just because you think you can handle it. you and soem
friends rent a gory movie and you laugh along with them as
some guy gets tortured to death. yet then you go to the
bathroom and feel sick. not sick sick, but mentally
sick. you remember how your mother hugs you, how your
father throws the football with you. you all of a sudden
don't hate them. you appreciate them and love them....but
that fades as you grab a soda and rejoin the screams of
pain in the other room............you have to face them as
you face those that want to fight you. what can you do?
nothing, absolutely nothing.
your parents up until senior year you cant' stand them.
then it sorta lightens up. you're about ot leave for
college and you feel sad. but don't get me wrong, you
still can't stand them, you fight with them.......only
now, when you hurt them it hurts you so much more. only
when you no longer have it do you realize how much those
games of basketball with your dad meant. how those
afternoons of sitting and talking with your mom while
watching the cosby show meant.......and it's melancholie,
it's what you feel when you fight with them over the