(A fictional story where I find myself trying to sleep in the dead of the night during a hot Summer spell.)
Laying in bed, I kick off my blanket. It’s too hot and the black darkness that I see from my shut eyes are more comforting than the whizzing fan above me on the ceiling of my room. It’s hot. It’s unbearably hot. And to make matters worse, it’s past 1AM in the dead of the night. And instead of the night offering some sort of relief from the hot weather, it’s as if the Moon and Sun are tag teaming the world to a boiling point. With my back to the wall, absorbing what little cool feeling remains, I hear bangs and scratches from the other side. It’s my brother. I suspect he’s done the same thing, but only earlier and is now asleep tossing and turning. That lucky devil. I bet he’s dreaming of air conditioning or ice cream or ice cream in an air conditioned chill room. Frustrated with the heat, I take my pillow and hit it a few times to make it softer. From across my room I can hear my Mom’s TV blaring. Even with her door closed, my door nearly closed, and my ceiling fan whizzing, I can still hear the voices coming from her soap operas. Sometimes she watches her shows late into the night. Sometimes she falls asleep watching them. I wonder if she’s awake or a sleep.
I’m sweating. I can feel the beads of sweat forming around my head. I try to go back to sleep and slumber but instead all I think about is which bead will break and fall to its death. My brother is snoring. It’s a good snore. He’s sleeping well. I envy him. My brother seems to be able to sleep at any moment under any circumstance. Even with a full night’s rest, if we were driving over rocks, he’d be fast asleep in the back seat of the car in 15 minutes. Pretending that sleep for myself is near, my ears begin hearing things. I hear the humming of a machine outside my house. With it being past 1AM, I suppose that the highway construction crew is off doing whatever it is they do during the middle of the late night with a machine whose humming gets loud enough to make the ground rattle.
Ah! There it goes. A drop of sweat runs down my face and makes a curved turn towards my nose. It dances around my nose and lip and makes me sneeze. The sneeze makes my whole body move. And when I do move, I hear the undeniable sound of two stuck pieces of vinyl coming apart. I’ve sweated so much that my shirt has gotten wet and stuck to the sheet of my bed. “Enough!” I called out in disgust. Sitting up I look at my ceiling fan and watch as the panels revolve by. I stare at them accusingly. “Why aren’t you doing your job,” I cry out!
“Why is it so damn hot, even in the middle of the night!” I look at it with eyes ready to pounce and fight. “It’s no use,” I say and slumber back into bed in defeat. Listening to the fan whirl I begin to lose myself in my thoughts and close my eyes.
Minutes go by when. I open my eyes. Grinning I get up from bed and sneak over to the refrigerator. Opening the door I wait for the cool air to meet me, like a hug from a friend. Instead I hear the fail wheezing of the fan. It’s only moderately less hot in my fridge. It broke down a few weeks ago when my brother and I thought we could make the freezer cooler by packing it in with boxes of ice cream. Little did we know that what we were actually doing was blocking the flow of circulation. With so much crammed in the freezer, we worked up the refrigerator’s motor and it near blew itself out. Now I have a fridge that partly cools. But that wasn’t why I’m here. I squat. Moving some things to the side, I extend my hand and ready myself to grab a bottle of soda that I’ve hidden from the rest of my family. As my hands close I don’t feel the cap. My eyes begin to dart left and right. “There is no way someone else got to my drink before me,” I think to myself as I move things out and peer into the refrigerator. Looking inside now I only saw the harsh reality of it all. My soda was gone. My little secret revealed. My cool refreshing beverage an icy gulp for someone other than I. I am angry but I’m also tired and sweaty. Closing the door slightly I head back to my room. Walking back I hear my brother’s snores and I begin to ponder if he drank my soda.
“I could just go into his room and give him a poke to wake him up,” I think to myself as a suitable punishment for drinking my soda. Yet I decide not to wake him. Instead I head back to my room and to the whizzing whir of my ceiling fans and get back into bed. Defeated, I start tossing and turning. “I am going to sleep,” I tell myself. Still moving around I happened to knock off one of my pillows. As the pillow fell, I heard a noise. My pillow hit something on the way down. Grabbing my pillow from off the floor, I spy all below me. It’s then I see the culprit. The pillow had indeed knocked it over. I’m knocking myself over. It’s been so unbearably hot for days now that I’ve bled together days. The pillow fell over and knocked over a bottle of soda. The hot days have been so uncannily like the one before that I had forgotten that it was I, myself, who stole, drank, and enjoyed the refreshing rewards of that black liquid concoction. Mad at myself, I grab the fallen pillow and cover my face. Beads of sweat are forming again. My brother knocks the wall again and it’s followed by his loud snore. I turn around in my bed and sleep with my stomach on the bed. I dig my head underneath my pillows and drown everything out. This bitter heat won’t last long. I think about Winter. I think about cold days that will soon surely follow. My brother hits the wall again and I shake my head underneath my pillows in my very hot room.
I got onto the freeway. I was taking the 10 into Los Angeles and I soon merged into the 101 heading into Hollywood. I exited on Sunset and made my way towards Amoeba Records where I was going to sell some my soul. I shouldn’t be dramatic about it. All I was selling back were some of my DVD collections and movies, and some CDs I saw laying around. But I was still sad. Pretty much most of my DVD collection, a collection that grew leaps and bounds during my college days, is now gone. I sold most of them back in spurts through out the years, especially when I was unemployed and when the holidays were approaching. At first I sold off some of my more ridiculous possessions like Cruel Intentions and Can’t Hardly Wait. But as soon as those titles left, I started parcelling away some of my more cherished movies like The Sting, Mean Creek, and Superbad. I’m not sure what bothers me more, the fact that I’m only getting a paltry coin back for these movies or that I only “truly” loved them because I got them from cunning sales and deals. In today’s castoff, I sold back all of my DC Comics animated shows (Batman, Superman, Batman Beyond, and the Justice League) and the complete series set of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Part of me died truly when I decided with this plan. Buffy nourished my inner geek all through high school and all those DC animated projects were favorites in my eye as a comic book fan. But something else is also taking a hold in me. I’m starting to see that these tangible possessions are becoming bothersome.
In terms of the movies, DVDs are out and Blu-Rays are in. But even in that there’s no real need to purchase them since rental services like Netflix and online/streaming services are vastly becoming available. Recently I’ve been living with an old television set that isn’t hooked up to a converter box or to my family’s satellite system, so outside of DVDs and video games, I am effectively living without a TV. But this isn’t bothering me. I don’t watch much these days and things I do want to watch, I can find online. A few years ago I felt this wasn’t the case and I guess that explains for my mass hoarding of films. But even now with some Blu-Ray films (I’m glad to say I kicked that habit so quickly thankfully) I don’t think I actually need them. Most things are getting dumped online and with this week’s announcement of the Apple iPad, it looks like print media will be getting the same treatment that music MP3s and video have been given.
Earlier this week I found myself in a funk. I couldn’t find the jovial, quirky me that I usually am and instead I found myself just thinking inwards and how things have happened and changed. And I guess that it didn’t help that I went to the beach and got my video camera damaged. I guess I should have known better since that exact thing happened twice before with an old Olympus camera I use to tote around with. I haven’t been writing lately, sure I’ve jotted down ideas, names, and other things but I haven’t been writing like I use to in the past. The Michael that use to blog near daily seems like an age ago. And besides the writing, I use to read frequently. I’d read books left and right. Sure they were for classes but I was still getting books done. But now it’s take me an ice age just to get past the cover.
I want to change this.
No: I will change this. I’m going to write regularly both in my personal blog and perhaps something more professional.
There’s been so much rattling in my head lately that it’s quite fascinating. I’ve been getting more ideas and thoughts, and I’m loving every minute of it. A few days ago at work I saw some high school students playing Magic the Gathering. (On an off note, I surprisingly saw many girls playing the card game as well and that warmed my geek heart.) This group of teenagers basically occupied one “L” area of the back library and as I shelved some books, I couldn’t but help notice them all. At one table were five teenagers playing and next to them sat a single girl hunched over a notebook and some books. Every so often I would steal a glance over and notice that the solitary girl would look over to the other table when shouts and giggles would happen. It was painfully obvious that she wanted to join them and be a part of the group.
It very much reminded me of Grendel, the monster-creature from Beowulf who so desperately wanted to join the partying Danes despite their loud rackets. Thinking about this display made me realize my own moments of wanting to belong. Everyone wants to belong and no one truly wants to be alone. In this regard, we’re all connected and the same. We all want to belong, it’s just that some find the belonging while others don’t. Perhaps this is just a riff of the old saying “misery loves company” but when we share something together, it makes us less alone than we truly are, and that gives me a flicker of hope.
They’re banging on the door again. They want to get inside but better yet they want me to come out. I’m surrounded by a darkness that seems more dark even as I open my eyes. What little light that remains with me in here, causes my eyes to see just a little more. Two halves of a desk, a bent chair, pictures torn, crumpled, or bitten, books torn apart, clothes scattered, bits of hair, blood, and skin are littered, this is my room. This is who I am.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
A voice cries an inaudible “no”. The voice is more animal like but I know it’s mine. Drool forms beneath my mouth and a drip of the mad-angry liquid falls on my foot. In the darkness I can see the droplet slowly falling to my foot. As the water hits, my foot and leg become warm. This warmth turns hotly and courses through my body. Something in my heart explodes. My mind goes soft and a tint of red coats my eyes.
The explosion in my body rises me off from the floor. I grab a bat. I hear a loud screaming voice that I don’t believe is mine. I see my television. BANG! It falls to the floor and glass shatters as it follows downwards. My picture of all of us. SMASH! My framed diploma becomes a body that I stab with the dull edge of the bat. I break the glass and twist the bat’s edge into the document. I hop and dance. I throw the bat as strong as I can and it hits the door leaving a mark. I go to my bed. As I breathe in and out, pondering whether to sleep and let the mad anger depart, but I will my arms to grab the mattress, throwing the sheets, and propping the bed over me.
The weight is heavy but I’ve burdened a load far much heavier. The mad anger grips me again and the mattress flies past my head and falls above the two halves of my desk. I’m tired but I jump over to my bed without a mattress and start crying. I cry like I’m a child again. I moan and sob, and suck gulps of air as I sob and tear some more.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
They call out my name “Matthew” and they plead for me to come out! They stand outside my door. And even with the door between us, I picture their strained and tear drenched faces. I cry again and hurl a shoe where there heads may have been, if they could storm the door. But they can’t storm the door. I’ve locked it well. The cold of darkness blankets my body but inside my body a rage-fire of hurt and anger makes me perspire. They fight to get in but the only one to reach me is sleep. I let the darkness take me and the sounds of the Thump! are gone. All that’s left is the darkness when I close my eyes. There’s nothing left, not even the hint of Thump! Thump! Thump!
I can’t write lately and it’s been bothering me. And I don’t know if it’s because of my time on Twitter, YouTube, and the Internet in general or if I’m just not allocating time for the act itself. In any case I want to change that. With only two posts on this iteration of my blog I’m ashamed at this sad state. Years ago on my other blog, I’d be blogging on a daily basis and would have around 30 or so good sized posts. But then again, that was then and this is now. It’s scary to think that the year will be over in a few days and that we’ll be starting a brand new decade.
The past decade saw so many highlights in my life. In 2000, I graduated from high school and in 2004, I graduated from college. In addition to the shift from high school to college, I moved south to Irvine and found a pleasant delight in Orange County. But this decade is also proving to be quite bothersome. I have yet to realize my place in the world and even though I’m very close on pushing 30, I picture myself ten years younger in attitude and mentality. Yet there’s still other things to consider like returning to the Internet/Computer technology side and finding (and becoming a part of) the YouTube community, and more recently the Twitter and Dailybooth communities.
Surprisingly and perhaps for once, I have some plans, however loose they may be, for the new year and decade. I’ve been going back to the gym on a regular basis now for about a month and a half, and I think I have that down on a regular basis now. The only real problem with that is that I’m driving from work in Alhambra to the gym in Arcadia. Now that’s quite a drive and it’s hell on the mileage. But hopefully if scheduling goes right, by February there will be a gym in Alhambra that I can go to. But now as the new year approaches I want to try my hand at controlling and limiting my eating diet so I can make the most of my new regimen!
And on the creative side, I’m going to make some active movements at my current job that will help with future jobs. I made a realization, somewhat, last week regarding my career. Though I still want to write and be a published writer. I know also feel that my career will be tied to the Internet and social media. To that effect I’m going to see what I can make of myself in that field. And also, for the longest time I only ever wanted to work for someone else. I thought working for a big company would be the best bet for all things considered and security. It might still be but now as I’m getting older, I want to have something that is my own. I want to have my own business. Though what it would be, I’m still working on that. But as I’m growing, I’m realizing that my previous dislikes are now becoming something I’m actively interested in.
2010 is also starting to look great in terms of movies and events. I just saw the trailers to Iron Man 2, Kick-Ass, Toy Story 3, Alice In Wonderland, and Frozen and I think I’m in store for a wealth of great films coming out. By the way, Avatar: it blew my mind way (but more on that later perhaps). In addition to the flicks, I can’t wait for the Summer so I can go to VidCon and next Northwest YouTube Gathering.
It’s nearing 1AM and tomorrow is my last day of work before Christmas. I just hope that the day goes by quickly and trip to San Jose and the family party go off without a hitch!
Tabula Rasa? Actually it's what's on the table that desribes who I am!
You may call me Michael Midnight, although I do have many other names, I live in the greater Los Angeles area where by day I work at a local library. Alongside whispering with the books, I am a writer who wants to write regularly, be published, and get paid to do what I love most. It’s a dream, I know, but it’s one I’m chasing. I haven’t been writing much, and I lay blame mostly on the Internet where I spend almost all of my time on.
I’m a part of the awesome YouTube community where I upload silly, little movies from time to time and I am heavily addicted to Twitter. I started using Twitter a year or so after it launched and it was about a year before it hit the mainstream populace. I remember for the longest time that I thought I was just shouting to the mountains, foolishly awaiting a response. Surprisingly I got some responses and before I knew it, I was actively engaging in the Twitter community. With YouTube and Twitter, I was made aware of Dailybooth.com that initially strove to be a social “once-a-day” photo site that snowballed into a creature onto itself. Some have called it the photo equivalent of Twitter, but it’s such a dynamic community, that it, too, has brought me many new friends that I wouldn’t have made if it weren’t for the site itself. In this regard, YouTube, Twitter, and Dailybooth are the Holy Trinity of the Internet for me.
I’ve been around the Internet blocks for a while now but there was a time when I fell off the radar completely, but since returning I have found it a much more fulfilling place than I had initially remembered. I grew up during the days where it was frowned upon to meet with people you met over the Internet. Now: not so much. Most often times these “in real life” meet ups with people you’ve interacted with online foster great interactions.
As a writer, I’m a huge fan and critic of TV and film, and I’m also a devoted comic book fan, and a lover of the never-will-it-fade book reading art form. I’m a huge fan of the Slashfilm Filmcast podcast where the trio of hosts, Dave Chen, Devindra Hardawar, and Adam Quigley, talk about TV and film news and review the previous weekend’s new releases with a weekly guest from somewhere in the film industry. I’m a follower of Leo Laporte and his TWiT Network and I’m also a Nerdfighter. I’m an Agent of Awesome, a Knight of the Rotund. I’m a “jack of all trades” and a “master of none”. I look to the heavens and wonder like a child, I’m not sure where I’m headed but the journey’s the fun until the end. I’m a prime dreamer at heart and all things are made better with a sweet lemon tart.
This all of me and this is none of me. This is a part of me. Although I cried bloody “tabula rasa” no one can really wipe the slate clean. The past is only truly prologue when one strives forward into the unknown holding steadfast to the memories of the past, and looking forward towards the horizon.
A young boy was sitting down by his house when he saw a man passing by. “Where ya headed mister,” the young boy yelled. “No clue son,” the man replied. “Then why keep on going,” asked the boy. “Well that there is the adventure. The journey!” This is my journey. - Michael Midnight
(A fictional story where I find myself trying to sleep in the dead of the night during a hot Summer spell.)
“I could just go into his room and give him a poke to wake him up,” I think to myself as a suitable punishment for drinking my soda. Yet I decide not to wake him. Instead I head back to my room and to the whizzing whir of my ceiling fans and get back into bed. Defeated, I start tossing and turning. “I am going to sleep,” I tell myself. Still moving around I happened to knock off one of my pillows. As the pillow fell, I heard a noise. My pillow hit something on the way down. Grabbing my pillow from off the floor, I spy all below me. It’s then I see the culprit. The pillow had indeed knocked it over. I’m knocking myself over. It’s been so unbearably hot for days now that I’ve bled together days. The pillow fell over and knocked over a bottle of soda. The hot days have been so uncannily like the one before that I had forgotten that it was I, myself, who stole, drank, and enjoyed the refreshing rewards of that black liquid concoction. Mad at myself, I grab the fallen pillow and cover my face. Beads of sweat are forming again. My brother knocks the wall again and it’s followed by his loud snore. I turn around in my bed and sleep with my stomach on the bed. I dig my head underneath my pillows and drown everything out. This bitter heat won’t last long. I think about Winter. I think about cold days that will soon surely follow. My brother hits the wall again and I shake my head underneath my pillows in my very hot room.
