The Great Story of a Brave, Forgotten House.

There’s something about an old, rotting, abandoned house that makes me think. There’s a message for humanity in there somewhere. But maybe not.  Some won’t look any deeper at life than at what’s floating there on the surface. And then there are those who’ll neurotically analyze every event and symbol in the world, searching madly for a message of something bigger. I usually fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum. But when it comes to these houses, I land at the far end with the rest of the thinkers.

I go out to where my grandma is buried when I’m in crisis or at a crossroads. On a comfortably cool, Texas December day, nearly a week before graduating college, I went out for a visit. After my usual tearful monologue about the state of my affairs, of which she already knows I’m sure, I left. It was probably out of a subconscious search for nostalgia that I decided to make the half mile trip up the winding road to where something else was dying. Continue reading

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The Awkward Handshake, Wizards, and Sailing.

Only The Graduate had the balls to talk about the post-college malaise that settles in after Graduation Day lunch has been eaten and all the family is gone. Well, maybe a few other media texts have offered up their opinion on the matter, but I’m no expert on that. Oh wait, my degree is in Film and Digital Media. I probably should be. At any rate, here I sit in my smoky sanctuary at an undisclosed location (for anonymity reasons), and the excitement is gone. I’ve crested the wave. I’ve peaked. And oh my God, look at that downhill. Emotional nuclear fallout, and I’m pretty sure there are disfigurements.

I just read what I wrote. Holy shit, that sounds depressing. Continue reading