pessimism in the twenty first century

the computer slang that people use always fascinates me. we drop letters and combine numbers to make a perverted form of english that is only ever rivaled by my poor typing skills. i'm not too keen on this perverse and backwards form of communication, but even i stoop so low sometimes to type out a generic what up dawg? to all of my o-so-tough street friends.

yeah. we're pretty badassed. living in university residences all across southern and eastern ontario. watch out! we might chase you in our walmart brand boots across the well lit street before nine pm on a weekend sometime.

i responded with my street-wise shout out after being messaged by melissa.

no lo on the shizzle i sent off, having no idea what it was even supposed to mean. all those izzles, surely there's somewhere they might sound right, but coming from my mouth? yeah right.

we proceeded to tell each other about our evenings. i worked on the perfect deponant conjugation in latin while she was socially active, hanging out with people and going to an open mic show. apparently her planned talk with andrew didn't take place because he didn't show up. and her planned talk with another individual isn't quite approachable at this point.

"i want to tell him, but i don't." she confides in me. i can hear her saying it in my head. "but what if?

my own inner voice pipes up yeah, i know what you mean.

you can't win them all, no matter how much you try.