blownawaytheidahoway

[stina]

Mine was a tuna sandwhich with bizarro black olives that were the size/appearance/taste  of large african dung beetles. I was forced to eat the sandwich. It took me a good 10 years to appreciate a good olive.

How does that really make you feel dish duty? (I'm stroking your back in upwards movements).

[Rugby Punk]

None of the others really correspond, I found. With the exception of maybe the first circle. But you have to really dig for it.


Seriously, think about it. The summit is the culmination of how extreme we can betray each other. In there, we are asked to do things far worse than any of the previous propheets, even the i want to live and the brothers keeper. We were ready and willing to slap our best friend in the face. We fought like dogs for four stupid plastic chairs, looking like one of those cartoon fight clouds from something like andy capp. We told each other we were takers. We told each other we  trust you, we don't trust you or we don't know if we trust you. We looked in each others' eyes and fucking told each other to die! I said that to one of my best friends. I still don't know why I didn't give her a "you live" vote. And the worst of all? We betray ourselves, because nobody gave themselves a "you live" vote. The staff point it out and shame us, despite the fact that the whole thing was set up to make you feel like you don't deserve a live vote.

Telling your best friend to die? I dunno. You can't get more traitorous than that.

Man, that just brought a huge flashback rushing back in. I think that was the turning point when I realized I wouldn't be talking after graduation to a lot of the assholes in my peer group. I must've had that selfish a group, most of them saved a vote for themselves. I never would've begun to think about doing that. I was really broken up and crying during that. I kept saying to Rudy, "I'm not God. I don't get to decide these things." With a couple exceptions, the rest of them were numb and blank. Actually, not blank. They looked at me with disgust. I was "weak" and taking things too seriously. It meant more to me, it really struck home in too real a way, deciding the fate of others. Throwing people out of a lifeboat. That was my big moral split with them. I kept it to myself like everything was still normal afterwards, joking around in the weeks leading up to graduation, but I pretty much knew I was surviving and escaping on my own, with no help from the assholes through this whole period of my life.
The slapping and the mad scramble for the chairs, man, don't get me started...

[stina]

Man, that just brought a huge flashback rushing back in. I think that was the turning point when I realized I wouldn't be talking after graduation to a lot of the assholes in my peer group. I must've had that selfish a group, most of them saved a vote for themselves. I never would've begun to think about doing that. I was really broken up and crying during that. I kept saying to Rudy, "I'm not God. I don't get to decide these things." With a couple exceptions, the rest of them were numb and blank. Actually, not blank. They looked at me with disgust. I was "weak" and taking things too seriously. It meant more to me, it really struck home in too real a way, deciding the fate of others. Throwing people out of a lifeboat. That was my big moral split with them. I kept it to myself like everything was still normal afterwards, joking around in the weeks leading up to graduation, but I pretty much knew I was surviving and escaping on my own, with no help from the assholes through this whole period of my life.
The slapping and the mad scramble for the chairs, man, don't get me started...

That really really sucks. I wish that you'd had people commiserating with you. The only way I got through that workshop was that the people in my peergroup and I had created a bond (not unlike war buddies I guess). I know exactly what you're saying about the lifeboat thing. I felt the same way. Who am I to say who goes and who stays? And what about writing your own obituary? Or was that the I want to live. I dunno. That was some heavy shit. The rest of my peergroup had written all these glowing obits and were standing waiting for me and I'd just written all this sad depressing stuff, I was the only one still on the floor. It took all the staff and about an hour to get me off the ground. Jesus. I'd forgotten about that. Anyway, I feel you, that's all I meant to say.

[try another castle]

The rest of my peergroup had written all these glowing obits and were standing waiting for me and I'd just written all this sad depressing stuff,

OMG me too!!! Everyone's was great, and mine was totally melodramatic, morose and hopeless. The staff even commented on it afterwards. I think in some sort of group feedback or modified rap type thing, I can't remember. I don't remember ver batim what they said, but it essentially meant "damn that was one fucked up obit."

[stina]

The rest of my peergroup had written all these glowing obits and were standing waiting for me and I'd just written all this sad depressing stuff,

OMG me too!!! Everyone's was great, and mine was totally melodramatic, morose and hopeless. The staff even commented on it afterwards. I think in some sort of group feedback or modified rap type thing, I can't remember. I don't remember ver batim what they said, but it essentially meant "damn that was one fucked up obit."

Castle, you and I, we're soulmates. From the morbid, soul sucking, completely melodramatic obits to the hand held (or whatever) Hitachi...you and me baby. We got it made.

I don't know what my deal is but I just had a flashback of that 80's sitcom, with the regular (if somewhat insecure) New Yorker and his sheepherder cousin from somewhere-akistan who lived together. Help me, what the hell was that show?

[stina]

You know what's terrifying? I think I still have the obit I wrote in my summit notebook.

[try another castle]

The rest of my peergroup had written all these glowing obits and were standing waiting for me and I'd just written all this sad depressing stuff,

OMG me too!!! Everyone's was great, and mine was totally melodramatic, morose and hopeless. The staff even commented on it afterwards. I think in some sort of group feedback or modified rap type thing, I can't remember. I don't remember ver batim what they said, but it essentially meant "damn that was one fucked up obit."

Castle, you and I, we're soulmates. From the morbid, soul sucking, completely melodramatic obits to the hand held (or whatever) Hitachi...you and me baby. We got it made.

I don't know what my deal is but I just had a flashback of that 80's sitcom, with the regular (if somewhat insecure) New Yorker and his sheepherder cousin from somewhere-akistan who lived together. Help me, what the hell was that show?

Perfect strangers with Bronson Pinchot.

[stina]

Thank you. That saved me an internet browsing trip. I liked that show.

[try another castle]

You know what's terrifying? I think I still have the obit I wrote in my summit notebook.

I have the whole fucking summit notebook, actually. I even have it in PDF because Idaho wanted a copy of it. I told him that if he shared that information with anyone I would have his head on a railroad spike.

Not only do I have the obit, I have the ripped out piece of newspaper with some girl's address and phone number who I met in the mall during the urban challenge... for the exercise. Not for any sort of fun.

I also discovered that I have everyone's stretch written in explicit detail. What they wore, what they had to do. I can't remember if everyone had to write that in their notebook or not. I know I had to, because our peer group staff member, Shannon and I were in charge of making sure everyone's costume met all of the requirements.

I broke out those notebooks out a few months ago and it blew my mind. I found my summit, i&me and full-time, in addition to my summit portfolio.

I wish I still had my personal journals, as I feel that would paint a better picture of what I was really like there. Isn't it weird to have a period in your life where you are not sure if you remember yourself the way you truly were?

[stina]

URBAN CHALLENGE?!?!?!?!!!!!!! Jesus. It just keeps coming. I had completely forgotten about that too. WTF was that all about? I mean really. My mind seriously just got blown. I need a minute.

[stina]

I just went into my storage...found everything. I'm not all that organized generally but I've always kept my scrapbook, journals and notebooks in the same box. And I'm going to go through it now. Should be interesting. I look through my scrapbook every few years, because all my pictures are in there and I still talk to quite a few people from school. But it's been a long time since I looked at anything propheet or workshop related. And what Castle said is true, it's strange to think of looking at something you wrote and felt in another time in your life and not recognize yourself.

[dishdutyfugitive]

Wow.  I forgot how fucked up the summit was. The obituary shit was warped. Some memories are coming back to me that blow my mind...

[stina]

That ginormous poster haunts me. It was like it was strategically placed to taunt us every time we'd come up those damn stairs.

 ::roflmao::  ::roflmao::  ::roflmao::

You mean this?



Yup. I made that. Part of it, anyway. Used to be sooo proud of it, too. Now I look at it and go "What crap."

Could just be my runaway I-am-the-center-of-the-world solipsism. But in my defense, I know a couple of people who *would*, indeed,  joke with me about that.

It's a pretty poster. It was always aesthetically pleasing, but the quote freaked me out fairly occasionally. Which had nothing to do with the artwork. So, I'm a fan. Of the artwork. I'd love to see new stuff. I had a little sister who was an amazing artist. If I can find me a scanner and get her permission, I'll post something she made me that still to this day is on my wall at home.

[Anonymous]

i have been trying to read through my journals since i started therapy like 2 months ago.  i just can't do it.  its too terrifying.  like people were talking about that fear that its all going to happen again, being re-enrolled or something, starting from the beginning... and thats how i feel about going into those notebooks, i am afraid to reexperience it...

i don't know if i have to or not but it seems like i have to...  i keep hoping that something will change and i won't have to anymore.  but then there is the part of me that wants to, that doesnt wnat to have to hide anything from myself anymore. i am so sick of pretending internally.  its such bullshit and its all so arbitrary anyway and crazy, i should really be allowed to be whatever i want to be, even if i want to be a killer, so what, killers get hunted down and killed, if thats what i want to be maybe there's a reason.

i dont want to be a killer, but i dont know what i want to be.  cedu robbed me of that time in my life, the time that people think about their lives, try to decide what they want, who they want to be.  the fucking dreams propheet.  i felt like Vanessa in Freeway - o you want to hear more of my innermost fucking secrets?  they stole our dreams.  so now i am done hiding things from myself. i am done letting others tell me who/what i can/can't be.  i will allow myself the time to decide slowly, i will be the nurturing loving parent to myself that i never had.  i will brainwash myself with kindness and goodness and love and help myself be all that i can be which will not a include a soldier or a corporate automoton.

amen?  (for those of you who don't pray or don't know, amen means 'let it be done' or 'i stand in agreement with that comment'  so dont worry i have absolutely no interest in any of you becomming christian.  i use amen like slang.  why should religions be the only ones who get to use it?)

[try another castle]

Yeah, reading through my summit, i&me and full-time notebooks after 20 years was pretty fucking embarrassing. And some of it was rather telling. There were parts when I actually wrote lucidly and talked about how stupid I thought all of this shit was. It surprised me.