27 July, 2008

College Memories (3) - Pathetic Fallacy (1)

As a side note, pathetic fallacy is a term I learned in Junior High School, I believe. I used it in a writing assignment, and the teacher told me what the device was called, and I've latched onto it ever since. Come to think of it, I learned the term onomatopoeia the same way. Or maybe that /was/ onomatopoeia. But then where did I learn pathetic fallacy? Ah well, the point is, I've been fond of the term ever since I learned it years ago, regardless of how I learned it. But that's neither here nor there.

You might remember The Window Story I wrote a little while back. The purely fictitious one. Well, it turns out that it's a completely true story. Okay, completely true with a little creative license. But there /was/ a girl and she /was/ very beautiful and I /did/ actually make a habit of sitting in my window waiting and watching, just to catch a mere fleeting glimpse of her. If you know me, and were around me in that environment at that point in my life, then I think there's no doubt of who the girl in question is (Jefferson Airplane - It's No Secret), and if not, then there's not much point in trying to identify her. So I will refer to her generically (and not particularly creatively) as Lady L. Partly because, considering how things happened, I don't really feel like I have any sort of possession over or right to use her name anyway. But mostly for the same reason that people don't like to utter the devil's true name for fear of inviting his power and control over their fragile hearts.

Don't get me wrong, she was not evil - in fact, she was much closer to an angel. But considering how I feel about God, I think you can understand my perspective. I will likely attribute all sorts of amazing powers to this girl whenever I invoke her likeness in any of my recountings of tales of days gone past, but you must understand that most of the power she had over me was likely a result of my own weakness, and that she was in fact very innocent and did not possess any malicious intent. At least as far as I could tell. But sometimes being kind hurts a hell of a lot more than being mean. Just try to keep this in mind.

She put a spell on me. Not by her will, but I was rendered powerless just the same. It's the kind of spell that a plantation worker puts on his zombies to get them to work in the field. You don't actually realize that you're under the spell at first, and you tend to react to your thoughts and feelings with denial, trying to rationalize your situation in any number of reasonable ways so long as they studiously avoid the truth - that you are a mindless slave, and you don't even have the will to resist. Of course, this all happens without actually dwelling on that possibility, so that it seems as if it were the last thing in the world that could be true. But it is true.

The first significant interaction (and I use that term loosely) I recall having with Lady L occurred at the end of my first semester at college. It was the lull before finals week. My dorm and the adjoining dorm was having some kind of get-together that evening, just to hang out, play some games, have some food, raffle off some crap, and things of that nature. Knowing that Lady L lived in the adjoining dorm,
I figured that it just might be a chance to see her. So I braved the social storm. She was there, along with what I believe were her two best friends at the time. I spent most of that get-together standing off to the side, against the wall, silently watching over the people moving around me - the way I tend to do.

Eventually, the crowds thinned out, and Lady L and her "entourage" acknowledged my existence, considering that we should have at least been aware of each other from our involvement in the anime club. They generally made me feel welcome, and we hung out casually until it was pretty much down to three of us - including L's closest friend (who was especially friendly). Would it be inconsiderate if I referred to her as Kinky K? I use the term in a most endearing manner. I remember that we played foosball and some card games (even though card games have never really been my thing), and I'm pretty sure that I generally made a fool of myself (although I could be biased). We all seemed to be having good fun, though.

There was just one problem. I had a radio show to dj that night. I think they were kind of impressed when I told them about it, but I was very reluctant to leave, even for something that I enjoy as much as hosting a radio show. But it would have been unreasonable (and probably have looked unfavorable) to blow it off, so I had to leave. I bid the two farewell, and trudged off into the driving rain. It wasn't just raining hard at this point, it was also cold, and very muddy. And here's the worst part: when I got to the radio station, I found a note there waiting, informing me that there were to be no radio shows for the rest of the semester. My co-host and I had chosen to do a show that night, thinking that it would be okay, considering that finals hadn't actually started yet, but our judgement was apparently incorrect.

So I trudged back to the dorms, in the cold, driving rain and slippery mud, my spirit downhearted. On a whim, I swang by the common room where the earlier get-together had been held, but peeking in, the two girls were nowhere to be seen - they most certainly had gone up to their rooms. This depressed me greatly, but I wasn't about to creep (deliberate word choice) around their doorsteps. So I swallowed my sorrow and returned to my room. But the effect that night had on me was irreversible.

2 comments:

  1. *hoists the goat* Sprechen sie truth, brother.

    I'd rather have a girl punch me in the face than smile at me, because a smile is misleading. And deez bitches don't have the slightest clue what they're doing to us. Friendship? Pleeez. I already got friends, girl.*

    *that's my perspetive now, but that's not to reverse the fact that when youth was still relevant, my loves were people who I would have liked to be friends with.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Maybe I'm just a masochist, but I'd still rather get a smile from a girl than a punch in the face.

    ReplyDelete