Existentialist Childhood Time-Travel

This is the story of Sidd Clemens, and his magic rock. You're invite to read it.

Entry #2 

Sometimes I wish that I could get a little bit of REAL adventure into my life, you know? Fight someone! Change something! 

Sadly, I do the same thing every day instead. I mean, it’s not all bad. I get 3 meals a day. And I have all my teeth. And I can look up pretty much any information I want whenever I feel like it.

I stepped off the bus and onto the cold sidewalk. It’s only a short walk into the building, so I wasn’t wearing a jacket even though it was cold. I faced glass double doors that opened into a linoleum tiled floor, full of many people wearing varied clothing of style and hue. Blue jeans. Black sweat pants. Sweaters. Ski jackets. Like a coral reef, only with less sharks and more swearing. I said my hellos to the people I knew. I guess if I’m writing this journal with the show and tell rule that would be 

"hello"

"Hello!"

"Hey"

So on. A couple dozen times. Most of these people are alright. No. Annoying. But good people. No. They’re mean to each other. But I like them. No wait. No I don’t. Which means that the only reason that I’m nice to them is conflict avoidance. 

So I’m not a good person either.

Entry #1

For the third time that morning, I wished I had something better to do. 

Not like what I’m doing didn’t have any merit, just that it was so- uninteresting? Worn out? Both. Yeah.

“Yeah.”

This comment acquired me the gaze of my fellow passenger on the school bus.

“Yeah what?” She said, confused and passively interested.

“uh. Just singing along. To the song. That I have on.”

“Ok,” smiling and laughing. Susie had a good nature, though she doesn’t really understand me. Or many things. Kind of in a box, that one. 

I took in my surroundings. 20 seats, two on either side of a small isle, stretching back a length about that of my house. Full of kids. Or not kids. They didn’t look like kids, at least not to me. Beards, breasts, booming laughs and piercing shrieks. 
Not bad people. Not by a long shot. Just- Loud people. 

Soon after, we took the turn and chugged up the hill, the great mass of us only moments from another day of the same thing, once again. 

The only change up for me today was my new book.

“Hidden Civilizations of the Amazon Basin”


The Adventures of others get me through my easy, slow, repetitive life. 

Ok. Test post. Here goes.