Procrastination

Well, this is pleasant. I sometimes believe that I forget I have a blog, and I when I want to write something I think to myself, ¨now if only I had a place to write all of my thoughts down." Go figure. However, as the title of this suggests, I am completely avoiding doing my homework at this very moment, in order to express, not so ironically, my detest for just that. However, after thinking for a little bit, then going on YouTube, then Facebook, then looking at my almost completely blank word document page, then back to Facebook, I realized, well every normal student is experiencing the same exact thing I am experiencing, a blog about that would simply be boring. Duh. But then I realized it, I can talk about my personal experience with it, using personification and symbolism and junk to make it a more-specific-to-me story that everyone can relate too. However, not everyone is going to relate to this story and perhaps a majority of you will not really understand anything I am remotely alluding to. Oops. Well anyway, I still want to type it out, because it is better than typing out the work that is due in two days, or better yet, stuff due tomorrow.

A few years ago I ran into someone named Español. It was a brief encounter, in fact, I learned very little about him. I think I was able to ask his age, but our communication to each other was very basic and consisted of things along the lines of, ¨how are you¨ and the generic response ¨I am good.¨ One day, I remember distinctly, he said, ¨I am tree stay.¨ I really had no idea what that meant, but I patted him on the back and said, ¨I stay in a home.¨ After that brief encounter, we were supposed to meet a few more times, however, in reality, I really just learned about other people who knew him such as Picasso, Dalí and Cervantes, who were all best friends of Español, who later just became known as Span. I never really understand anything about Span, but the other people seemed to find him amusing and used him as inspiration for their popularity and fame. Regardless, I thought I would never have to exploit him like that, so after high school, Span and I parted ways.
In college, it turned out he would meet with me again in a weird, crazy mixed up kind of way. In fact, it was mandatory that I met with him once more. Without hesitation though, I decided to say, ¨Hello¨ once more. We grew insanely close that year and I began to appreciate Span more and considered him a close part of my life. In fact, I listened to his music, read his poems, and tried to speak with him on a more in-depth level. We became so close, that my college experience is now revolving around him and everything associated with him. I revisit his former friends that I once took for granted, and continue to view him in various forms. Span became an incredible friend of mine, but at times, I feel like Span does not understand me as much as I do not understand him.
We have our quarrels, sometimes too frequently during a week, and he constantly tells me that he has no idea what I am trying to say. People who have known Span since they were babies cannot even fathom what mess of syntax is being vomited out of my mouth. I hear it all the time, ¨I do not understand what you are trying to say.¨ Over and over. Span just looks at me with disappointment, ¨I thought we were friends,¨ he whispers, ¨I thought we were going to take it to the end.¨
I do not back out on my promise to Span, as he intrigues me too much to leave him now, deserted on a peninsula far away as he fights for his freedom here my hometown as well. I still adore him. I cannot express enough of my admiration. However, I continually get ostracized and punished by his other companions and even him, to the point where my beaten spirit is becoming too dampened with defeat to even see the dryness of success.
Span and I were hanging out last night when I was trying to survive the earthquake of errors I was making in my homework. He looked at me, with the eyes so darkened red with both rage and disappointment, that I could not help but fall limp to the destruction that ensued. Punch after punch by Span´s fists dropped me to the floor, bleeding a yellow and red river of conquest... I was conquered.
Span left me in that room, darkened by the moonlight shielded by the blinds. He whispered in my ear something audible but untranslatable to me. His all-encompassing body hovered over me as my eyes cried for help and understanding. "Sorry," he spoke loudly and clearly, walking his size 330 million feet over my body and out the open door. I whimpered, "Help me. I do not understand what you are trying to say."
Now although the experience left me broken and bruised, I still spoke to Span today to figure out what I can do about everything that is happening in my life and all of the aspects that he is included in, but our conversation was left inconclusive. I do not know how I am going to survive my life with Spanny, as I have begun to call him, but I do not know how I am not going to survive with him either. As much as I try, I do not think I will ever be able to compare to his friends that he has known since the beginning of time, and they all know it.