Saturday, August 9, 2008

Ugly Mothers With Broken Teeth

    Sleep, ensnares me.

    I go under fully and sleep like the dead. I stay that way all afternoon long until evening. I wake up around ten O'clock. Groggy and cranky, but full of sleep. Too much sleep. I'm not going back soon, this I know. I rise somewhat, not really getting out of bed, looking around at the darkness. Lights were turned out on time, leaving the dorm black. I watched as my dorm mates settled into their beds for the night, everything growing still by the moment.

    Now a little description of the dorm. So you'd understand.

    The dorm is a large space, divided into four by three partitions. Simple. I am asleep next to the foremost partition, on the other side is who we can call Stoopid. A strange boy, slower than snot running down a nose in Winter. His brain is so slow that it takes him two hours to watch 'Sixty Minutes' and a half hour to make Minute Rice. Stoopid is in bed, laying on his back, hands under his head, staring up at the ceiling.

    Across from me, against the adjoining partition is Igor. Everyone to the left of us are in the 'First Dorm'. This is Mike Murder, Paul the Stooge, Crazy Motherfucker, and Stoopid. In the 'Second Dorm' is myself, Igor and the rest of the crew, and so on and so forth. Well, to make a long story short, Stoopid starts slamming his bed drawers at Eleven O'clock at night. Bang. Bang. Bang. This infuriates Igor. Drives him nuts even. He bangs on the glass for one of the useless motherfuckers to come in and make Stoopid stop. Kim, a foremost useless motherfucker, walks in and chides Igor, saying that if Stoopid needs to get into his drawers he should be allowed to. With this being said, I put my headsets on and begin to drown the madness out. I know this is going to be a long night.

    There is a moment of silence before Stoopid starts banging on his drawers again. Bang. Bang. Bang. Igor jumps from his bed, shouting. Useless motherfucker comes in to tell everyone to settle down. There is another moment of silence.

    Bang. Bang. Bang.

    Now, Paul the Stooge pops up complaining as does Igor. Bang. Bang.Bang. They walk around the dorm. Igor doing most of the proselytizing, waking everyone to the Banging noise. No one else was affected at this point. Igor is rallying the sleeping forces to his side. Another useless motherfucker enters, Vanessa. She demands order, and everyone returns to bed. Finally silence.

    I turn up my headsets.
    I feel it up against the partition more than hear it.
    Bang. Bang. Bang.

    Then there is a shout. Stoopid is tearing through his drawers now, throwing clothes up into the air. The useless motherfuckers rush in. Stoopid is freaking out. Someone has poured water on his bed. He's leaving to sleep in the streets. Everyone applauds his decision except the useless motherfuckers who take him into the Tech room and suck his dick to stay. When did this guy become famous and necessary. Soon they give him a bed in the back quarter of the dorm, far from his original bed. He is told to settle for the night and all is still. I roll over onto my back and look through the dark murkiness that's the back quarter where a shadow stirs. Soon, Stoopid comes from there, walks past me, and past the first partition into the first quarter of the dorm, his bed. Bang, Bang, Bang.

    But it had taken him too long from the back to the front to begin his noise- making. Bang, Bang, Bang. Everyone that he was annoying with his childish antics is now asleep, numb to his noises. Bang. Bang. Bang. His movements sounded more and more alone as he slowly realized that his noises were reaching dead ears. bang, bang, bang. He grew tired of the effort. He was eliciting no response from anyone. I stayed completely still. I wondered how long he would keep banging. He seemed pathetic and small. bang.

    Soon, completely spent and tired of doing nothing, not even amusing himself, Stoopid lumbers back, like beaten oxen, to the back quarter of the dorm, his shadow diminishing. Soon, he too is asleep.

    And I am awake.

    Writing scenes for my screenplay in my head, or thinking about big, bouncing breasts. Anything that could bring about sleep.

    And I am awake.

    HobobobSource URL: http://idontwanttobeanythingotherthanme.blogspot.com/2008/08/ugly-mothers-with-broken-teeth.html
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