92 lines
5.0 KiB
Plaintext
92 lines
5.0 KiB
Plaintext
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<< THE HOGS OF ENTROPY, KEEPERS OF THE GLORIOUS TEXT FILE PRESENT >>
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_// _// _// _//////// _// - oink!
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_// _// _// _// _// _// - moo!!
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_// _// _// _// _// _// _// - oink!
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_// _////// _// _// _// _////// _// - moo!!
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_// _// _// _// _// _// _// - oink!
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_// _// _// _// _// _// _// - moo!!
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_/ _// _// _/// _//////// _// - oink!
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<< HOE ISSUE #118 >>
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>> "so much to live for, so much to die for, right?" <<
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by -> kheldar
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----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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6:33 am. Mike gets up groggily, grabs a pair of pants and a shirt,
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and heads toward the bathroom. In use. "No problem, I'll just grab
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something to eat," Mike thinks to himself. He walks down the stairs, now
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almost fully awake. He eats breakfast like everyone else in the entire
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town, not even thinking of how much this day will be just like the others.
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The same routine, the same conversations, the same life. Angst? Mike
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doesn't have a clue. Never heard the word, probably couldn't even spell
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it.
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After Mike spends his designated 10 minutes in the shower, cleans
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up, packs his lunch and his milk money, he hops into the car cheerfully and
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rides to school. He innocently says hi to everyone whom he knows, not
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noticing their tone of voice, or even their facial expression. Why should
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he pay attention to that? I mean, everyone's nice to Mike!
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It's all the same, thought Mike doesn't realize it. There's
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nothing behind why he's always picked last for sports. When people make
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fun of him, it's all in good humor. Why should he get mad at anything? He
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has his whole life ahead of him.
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Now, Mike is your typical seventh grader. A little on the short
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side, and a tad bit smarter than his peers. He doesn't really hang out
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with the sports crowd, because they tend to ignore him, but that's because
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he hasn't proven himself, right? Now it's about this time that Mike begins
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to notice members of the opposite sex. Hmmm... Girls? Hey, look at that,
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she's being nice to me! He thinks, as he's invited to a party. "Next
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Friday at 8? I'll be there!" He says with a smile. Mike likes to smile.
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He has lots to be happy about.
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Party. Fun. Music. Dancing. Hey, she asked me to dance! Look,
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I'm dancing with a girl! After the party. Wow, that girl called me! I
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must be special to her. She likes me! Yeah, I have a real good chance
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with her, but I think I'll wait a little while. No need to be impatient!
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And so it goes. Week after week. Hanging around the girl, waiting
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for her to make the first move. "She's just shy like me." "Maybe she
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wants me to make the first move." "She likes me, but doesn't think I like
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her." And so on, and so forth. Keep making the excuses, Mike. Sunrise,
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sunset. Sunrise, sunset.
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HEY! Why's she talking with that guy? She never laughs that much
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at my jokes! Why isn't she talking to me? That's not fair, I thought you
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were my friend! Looks like she's drained you, bud. So Mike goes and talks
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to his friend. He doesn't quite realize that the "friend" doesn't like him
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that much. He's a bit too civil, but he doesn't quite seem to notice.
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"You should ask her out, d00d!" "Yeah, good idea, but what about that
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other guy?" "Ummm... Ask her out, d00d!"
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Another month. It's been what, 6 now? Another, and another. You
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feel yourself feeling worse and worse, don't you Mike? You only talk to
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her about once a week. Every other week. Every month. Look at your heart
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change it's little red hues into violet, blue, purple, black. Look at your
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mood swings, look at your depression. Look at her rip your heart out and
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stomp on it, Mike. Take a real good look. Know you think you know what
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angst is, don't you? Yeah, you sing the same old song. It happened to
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seventy thousand other people at the exact same time it happened to you,
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but you don't know that, and you wouldn't comprehend it if you did.
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Look at you. You sit at home writing in your little purple and
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black diary, with yellow stripes. Yeah, you've got so much angst, don't
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you? Well, if you weren't the same little prepackaged product maybe you
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would be, but you came in a box, my friend, and you're just a serial
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number. You may as well not exist, right? Yeah, you'd be so much better
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off dead, wouldn't you? Nothing to live for, right? You think so, but in
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time, you'll forget, and if you don't, you won't care. In fact, you won't
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care much about anything.... that is, until you turn into an adult, and
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conform to what society wants you to be like. You have your own office
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with a window, right? Yeah, I'll bet. Catch you on the flip side, my
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friend.
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----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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* (c) HoE publications. HoE #118 -- written by kheldar -- 6/11/97 *
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