i've been writing bits of this story for a long while now. it's really random, and i don't even know if it will end up being worth all the trouble it's put me through. but i keep writing random things for it anyway. this next bit is a short rambling of cooper - the main character. it's just a rambling, not really part of the actual story... but i thought i'd post it here for whatever reason. cooper is like me in a few ways, but not really. he's stronger than me in a few ways and weaker than me in a lot of others... i don't really feel as he does... at this moment, anyway...

Winter In Spades - Cooper narration 3
i'm so much better than i used to be

"when things happen, like, anything at all... you sort of pass it by. things happening... it's like.. it doesn't matter when you're depressed. everything just becomes a thing. and many of those things just zoom past you in an awkward fit of frustration and agony. you don't care about anything, or rather, you're not sure what you care about. it's all mixed and muddled and befuddled. and the thing is... you don't even know if you're depressed. it's just what someone told you. when you have a pain in your chest and you don't know what to do, you must be depressed.

so, i guess i'm depressed.

now i'm giving up people. like a drug, they came into my life, smiling and laughing and shouting and crying with vacuum daydreams for me and them, slowly eating away with no truth and their never ending need for finality. and so it would be final eventually, it always was. but, i wasn't built for that. i'm not sure any of us were... but we seem to think we are. i kept on breaking the rules of social context. i loved too much. they drew me in. euphoric highs followed by sharp pains and fetal bedspring slumber parties. but, now i'm letting all of that go. i've gone into human rehabilatation. people do nothing but hurt me. yes, i'm very selfish, but as of yet, i haven't met a single person that hasn't hurt me... and being hurt isn't my favorite thing.

no... i do like a lot of things about people. i love many things about a particular person. but, that's sort of the point. unrequited love hurts.

but that's neither here nor there any longer...

anyway...

i grew up in a mid-sized town. economy sized. i learned life from that town. i learned it and i finished it and i took the test and passed it and went on to a first rate city. this city, new york city. this is where i became an entity of the planet. slowly crawling from one place to the next, making lines in the ground. pretty lines. artwork for giants. this struggling life, entertainment for their museums and coffee table books. this is the modern working man. give him a chance. take it away. it's only my job, don't take it personally.

starvation and poverty are very personal things.

there is a dominant force in american society that we like to call "settling." i'm not settling anymore. i'm not settling on more work for less pay, take what you can get, do what you have to do... no, i won't. i'm going away. and while i'm away, i'm writing my novel. my dream. my hilarious grade school wishes that have only become cheesy because it had become the opposite of "settling." but my dream has become warped and twisted and now i only hope that when it's finished it will never be read, and if it is, it will make the population ill and disgusted by it's human accuracies and people will loathe it and detest it and throw it into oblivion if they could. because that will be something different. that will be my opus.

so, i'm not setlling. starvation and poverty will become my greatest allies. because it's true, you know: i'm actively seeking a tragedy to fill in the notes of my opus.

yes, i'm human... and i'm actively seeking tragedy:

25 year old Male Seeking:
Pain and torment and sadness
Must be travel size and
concise enough to fit in a
300-400 pg work of art.

i'm actively seeking tragedy in the hopes that i will finally be able to get rid of it. in the hopes that tragedy will have had enough with me. i will have smothered tragedy and loved it too much. it will feel trapped and scared and finally, eventually, run away. and that will be the first time that i would be okay with being left behind.

my tragedy lies in colorado. in the snowy depths of spades. though, i will admit - this tragedy is slightly bastardized. it's accomodated by my grandfather - he has a cabin there, where i'll be living. as it is, starvation and poverty will be things that won't be present. they won't even exist - the cabin is stocked through winter with food and enough wood to last beyond it. more food will be dropped off on every 15th day...

so, the kindness of my grandfather should be enough to make me reconsider, but i can't just give this up. the only tragedy that can accompany me on this trip will be lonely. and... i'm... not even sure if lonely is a tragedy...

i'm too cryptic to understand what i'm doing."