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i found this superfluous piece of literature stored on an old, cracked, unlabeled disk stored in a crushed shoebox shoved underneath my bed. the ms word document, which recounts only a mere fraction of a day that i spent in a downtown park at the age of 15, is dated july 11, 1997. all of the files stored on this recovered disk were originally intended for use on this website, although i wouldn't get the site off the ground 'til late '98/early '99. but by then, i had unfortunately misplaced this disk, so i ended up restarting from scratch anyway.
there are a total of seven word documents on this disk. of those document files, this is the only one that apparently wasn't corrupted.
[begin]
I'm strolling through a public park around noon. Kids are playing all around me. I see one of them playing with a dead cat in a sandbox. For some reason, I do not find this strange.
I stand next to a bench, looking out at the playing children. A fairly attractive and mysterious-looking female goth is sitting on the bench on the opposite end from where I'm standing. She appears to be reading a book. I bend down slightly to peer at the book's cover and catch a glimpse of the title, which I have a hard time making out due to it's unusual font style.
"The Art of Scaring Children?" I ask, somewhat jokingly.
The goth looks up from her book, seemingly bothered. "Do you want something?"
"Oh, uh..." I think to myself for a moment before sheepishly responding. "Well uh... no, not really."
She looks me over. "I know you, don't I?"
I pause for a moment, suddenly feeling strangely flustered. "Um... are you asking me or telling me?" I ask, slightly confused as I try to read the expression on the goth's pasty, makeup-smeared face.
She slightly tilts her head. "You're dimwittedness amuses me."
I tilt my head parallel to hers and scrounge my brow. "Shouldn't you be hanging out with your other goth friends sacrificing kittens right now or something?"
The intensely moody goth looks me in the eyes with contempt. "You're pathetic, you know that?"
"Yeah, I know..." I pause for a moment to look out at the playing children before continuing. "You know, you do realize you're saying this to somebody who calls himself a loser, don't... you... ?" I stop and sigh once I notice that the kooky goth has already gotten up and walked away, possibly to go berate somebody else.
"Well, it's nice to know she's not a judgmental person," I think to myself.
[end]
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