This is just what it looks like. I have written a mini-epic of a post for you all here. Its like a book. Its like a film. Its like that best-of post i did a while back. Its like all of us that have ever dreamed the world could be so much bigger, than the box we grew up in. Lets never stop dreaming, ok friends?
The Birth of the Tom
{I.Bloodlines II.The Depth of the Soul III. Self Facination IV. Andrew Russo Comes Out to Play V.The One called Scarlet VI. Christianhood}
Chapter 1. Bloodlines.
My neighbor tried to get me to go to a Static X show tonight. But i went to bill grays and played the hockey game with jim and liam. Jim actually bounced the puck off of my player into my goal, solidifying his birthright authority over me.
I was born into a small house with lots of brothers. One of them is Jim. Jim, unlike my other brothers, is the tallest, and the oldest. He is a funny mix of a boy who likes poetry and pretty things, (like the sky, and more poetry) and a boy who likes dark, heavy music, about wars and death and redemption. He is as confusing as his twisted, matted, hair, but just as nice looking. Lets blow a trumpet for him or something. He's James Theophilus Lake.
Let us not forget his words here on the blog:
"At a boy tom! try not to suck."
"Poor tom, poor simple tom."
"oh and by the way i have read every blog that you posted today ... i love the one where i beat you in table hocky, that was a fun day."
Thanks Jim, you ol' Tiger you!
Chapter 2: The Depths of the Soul
I am a virgin and I live with my parents.
This has not changed, nor will it ever, unless by some strange deus ex machina intervention happens at the end of the play and marraige befalls me. Until then, you may rest apon this truth.
Chapter 3: Self Facination
The way it wraps about your torso like so. The way you muss up your hair and pose with the mop in the bathroom. With the broom in the storage closet. Or with no accessory at all, alone, just you and your tight gray polo shirt. In the dining hall, underneath the chandelier.
I would never say I am an egotistical facatic, but I have my moments. There's a lesson to be learned from this. Get in touch with yourself.
Chapter 4: Andrew Russo Comes Out to Play
"Narcissistic beast, curse your inherited affliction
Punish the brute and shackle him
Become presentable to the grey-eyed Athene
Find happiness among her perched owls" -Anonymous author with strange ties to the Russo family.
There are some of my friends who get their own section in this 101st post celebration. But I think Andrew's the only one. He has made his presence known on this weblog for sure. Here are a few memorable moments:
"Tom, you are the literary giant of our age. All will bow and tremble below the explosive might of your pen. Your stylistic punctuation is miles ahead of our time. And, Your use of poetic metaphor leaves one feeling as though they had touched the face of God."
Well, that was quite flattering! It seems that Andew is never shy when it comes to laying on comliments! (This is no secret to the ladies out there of course! wink! wink!) How could I reply, but with a humble, but respectful declination of his praise:
Dear commenter,While I appreciate your comments, and have subconsciencely internalized them, I must inform you that it was not I that wrote the "poetry of the gods" posted on my site. So please, in the near future, remember to read all disclaimers before you jump to conclusions such as me writing such a thick, evocative, peice of literature. Thank you.
# posted by Tom
"Tom: Lately my half a heart has been horribly itchy, does that mean you've been in some kind of danger?"
# posted by Andrew
How true it was, at that very moment, I was mowing the lawn in Illinois, on a riding lawn mower. I dont think I will go into what that entails exactly, for the sake of my readers who are squeamish.
"Go cry to your mommma, you baby!!!"
Oh Andy!
"You're alright Tom, don't let me tell you any different."
Oh Andy!
Chapter 5: The One Called Scarlet.
"it's a good thing we can still be friends." -Joel
Taken out of context, this is even more touching.
Chapter 6: Christianhood.
I have always beleived Christ to be the source of life, and meaning in this world. But I have never lived like that. These past few months have been serious times of questioning for me. I have come to new, awfully honest territory with God. I now realize how much of my life is pointless, and how much of it needs to be redeemed. I only hope I can accept each part of my life that needs to leave in the coming year. I hope you can too.
2 comments:
dude tom,
reading stuff you write's real cool.
it makes my meaningless college existence worthwhile.
thank you.
~gina~
Did anyone notice how the size of my section dwarfed everything else?
-Russo
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