Shaun Lewis: the Man, the Myth, the Legend

It’s late Sunday night.

Well, I had a pretty interesting night last night. I don’t really feel like giving all the details because it is a long story. It was definitely the accepted definition of a “party night” though. That is, of course, the complete opposite of what I define as a party night. I can’t exactly think of what that would be for me, but I’m pretty sure it would involve a movie and candy. Probably chocolate milk too. Oh, and there would be horses—stallions, if you will. Naturally, I would be mounted atop one of these thoroughbred stallions with a slight breeze blowing my beautiful locks of hair from my gorgeous face while my dark eyes were fixed towards the sky.

Clearly, I have imagined this scene many times.

Yeah, though. I partied on Saturday night. I’m not going to write a long entry about it, but you can read about it on Jason’s journal located @ http://www.xanga.com/jrod1544. Even though I’m not going to tell the story, I really should take a moment to apologize to the hooker I punched in the mouth. Starla, if you’re reading this… I’m sorry. I got out of control.

Hmm, I just realized there’s a little problem with this entry: if I don’t write about what I did then what do I have to write about? I think the answer is probably nothing. That definitely kind of sucks because I was really hoping I would have an awesome story to tell. I mean, I guess technically I do have an awesome story to tell, but I just don’t feel like telling it. That probably makes me a jerk or something. Looks like that’s the way it’s going to be tonight though because I do not feel like running through everything I did last night to come up with a story for people who probably don’t really care all that much about it anyway.

In fact, I’ll go one step further with that. I think it would be extremely selfish, and also quite foolish, of myself to think that other people would want to hear about my weekend. Really, who wants to read about what someone else did? For THAT matter, why are you reading this? Why?! I beg you to go do something else! I can’t take the pressure of everyone always asking me to update! I can’t take it!!! It’s starting to get nice outside—GO! PLAY! RUN AROUND A BIT! STOP READING!

WAIT!—

I am being rash. Without anyone reading, I would not feel special like I do right now. It’s a pretty safe bet that I would eventually wind up with shattered dreams that were broken by a society kind enough to bear them, but too weak to nuture them. I implore anyone reading this journal not to stop until you reach the very end of this entry. Keep it up until the very last word on the page has been read. When you arrive at that point, pause a moment and then reflect on what you have just invested a couple minutes in: a story about how I don’t want to tell a story.

And yeah. You can stop now.