Weird Moods

Work was a deluge tonight, and it will be again tomorrow. And I have still done no homework. I think I am going to look Tuesday for a new job, particularly at Books a Million. I can’t take this shit anymore; I completely understand Cory in his apathy–and he’s newer than I. How I hung in there so long is beyond me.

I’m listening to Aerosmith’s “Dream On” right now, and although the lyrics are just odd (and the voice it not at all the Tyler voice I am used to), the music is just freaking me out. Something about those mellow, laid-back crescendoes (in music and vocals) that give me chills. It never fails.

Every time that I look in the mirror
All these lines on my face getting clearer
The past is gone
It went by like dusk to dawn
Isn’t that the way
Everybody’s got their dues in life to pay

I know nobody knows
Where it comes and where it goes
I know it’s everybody’s sin
You got to lose to know how to win

Half my life’s in books’ written pages
Live and learn from fools and from sages
You know it’s true
All the things come back to you

Sing with me sing for the years
Sing for the laughter and sing for the tears
Sing with me if it’s just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away

Dream on dream on dream on
Dream yourself a dream come true

While I tend to think this song is a wee bit confusing in the lyrics, taken with the tone of voice and that eerie music, I find myself loving it. So I’m in a weird mood right now.

I’ve been thinking about my old buddy Joseph lately. I haven’t seen or heard a peep from him since eigth grade, but I still think about him, about the the situation he was in at the end of that year with his father (which I’m not supposed to know about), and the hell that I personally put him through, even without the help of Katie and Sabrina. Maybe the things I said and did didn’t really bother him that much; maybe he just shrugged it off as an immature bitch’s rantings. But maybe not. An IB student at Harding, Mark, recently performed (cello) in a Civic Something-or-another competition. He told me that the violinist he was competing against was named Joseph, and that his dying grandmother was there to see him win. But Mark won. Mark didn’t seem too terribly bothered by his victory, but since then, Joseph has resurfaced again and again in my thoughts and dreams. Not that he hadn’t been in them before, but it’s a little bothersome at this point. Everytime I help a customer at the theater that could possibly fit his profile, I wonder if maybe it was him, and he just didn’t recognize me without my typical hairdo of that age, or maybe he has changed drastically in the five years since eigth grade. That’s another reason I wouldn’t mind working all the way across town from his house. There would be less doubt in my mind. Of course, I don’t have the balls to just look up his phone number (his father’s name is very distinctive) and call him, or hunt down old mutual friends to ask about him, but since we are graduating soon and I’ll be disappearing to another state, I’ve been wondering…