reality collapsed for me in my boys garage in like 2008

reality collapsed for me in my boy’s garage in like 2008


    i have my own founding myth for the “world” that i find myself in, which as an opening statement, you’ll likely find edgy and slathered in a teenage rage, and you should. for one, i was a teenager at the time, albeit my later teens, and secondly i think it’s a defensible statement. some of the details are lost to time of course, as your own does as well. 


i can have my own founding myth because we all live in our own myth now, each tailored to our own moments in which we demarcated “the before time”, and the subsequent moments that turned to years in which we realized that we find ourselves in a prison of Now. Right now. for me, that moment was smoking two blunts in my friends garage in 2008.


    it was the standard ritual circle you’d expect in my friend’s connecticut garage. we went to both middle and high school together and found ourselves in a long tradition of first, playing halo, to then later in our years rolling blunts and playing halo, to at the point of your hero’s story where we’d roll blunts and talk about playing halo but convinced ourselves we’d do it next time. a mutual friend had joined us this time which was typical, but what wasn’t was having several others coming as well that we all knew, making it a little party in our typically uneventful new england town. 


    three lady friends of ours came by, and i knew them for a few years prior and all was well with them, they were good lookers and good company so i had no issue. also our task at hand of “looking at flowers” and talking about retarded shit was nothing that they wouldn’t fully expect from us, so it was all quite natural. you get used to things like this and they become a little mosaic in your mind’s eye as they happen— people sit in the same spots, you’re probably rotating the same burned CDs you’ve had in some dusty CD case for a while at this point, and you have comfortable topics that you all are more than familiar with. 


    i’ve always been a little more vicarious and kind of drift in and out of conversations for extended periods, which people that know me don’t find strange. usually i come back out of the ether with some weird shit to say that i just play straight and people like that about me. i drifted out and our lady friends of ours pulled up chairs on the outside and were gossiping, and this is where it happened. my buddy “M” says “yeah here comes the blunt pull out yours phones”. to my usual friend’s laughter. 


    this is where i noticed something that i never noticed before in my life. see, i’m used to the girls kind of being in their own bubble chatting amongst themselves and what not, but this is the first time that i noticed every single one of them had a phone in their hands. i knew something was off at the time but didn’t notice it until “M” had mockingly implied things i was just thenpicking up— taking pictures of your typical “party” actions (drugs, drinking, whatever), and my head was immediately swirling. it was bizarre.


i was watching a new ritual take over what i had always known, and it’s become base reality now. that moment was the last second of MY life. 


    if you’re younger, this won’t be striking to you at all or it’ll sound melodramatic, but you need to take several things into account right now. in 2006-2008 people started to have smart phones but almost NOBODY had it or used it anywhere near to the level they did now other than texting non stop, which was the advent of the razor phone. this was different, countless flashes and poses just emerged spontaneously out of nowhere. 


who the fuck are you posing for? i’m sitting in here wondering what the fuck these three broads are doing because it was almost unnerving at the time. 


we’re going to transform the blunt, the blunt isn’t real. we’re transforming it into a catalyst— the inertia in which reality yields for the virtual in order for it to be catalogued as the “true” “reality”. 


i still didn’t really get it at the time, but i get home and i open facebook, and this is where my nightmare starts. first of all take into account that this is before facebook was boomerbook or whatever, and it was pretty common to be posting that type of content, that’s irrelevant. this is what’s relevant: these three girls totally rewrote the nature of of my experience, and time-bound my life with a portrayal of events that NEVER fucking happened. 


as you remember i went into detail about what most of you are probably more than familiar with— just sitting in a cold garage doing nothing all that important with a few friends and calling it a day. this is the true events that to this day, I, ME, still remember. I remember that. it was 6 people doing absolutely nothing extravagant. 


unless you went on facebook.


on FACEBOOK, actually it was a raging party! these three girls actually posed and set up a false flag to make it seem like some banger went down. they took pictures of beers they didn’t take, shit they didn’t smoke, edited and curtailed everything with captions that made it seem as if it was some after party to some banger. people messaged me about it and wondered what went down. 


that night i actually lied in bed and was genuinely distraught. it’s a trite example now, but it made me think of those stalin pictures where the soviets would just crop out people that nobody wanted to remember, making them only memories for as long as those people were still alive to remember— should they even want to. it’s such a melodramatic analogy given the context but it genuinely haunts me to this day. as of typing this it’s now 2021, so i don’t have to tell you the nightmare that is social media and technology, but i remember it vividly because that’s the day my real life ended.


the virtual world is fully ensconced within the real world now, it’s baudrillard’s integral reality, there’s no difference. the fact that everyone has high-definition video recording on them at all times makes it so that a world in which that’s not happening doesn’t exist, or a world in which the very fact that it’s not happening is odd and eventful in and of itself— an arbitrary restriction on what would naturally happen given people’s typical conduct, which is to have a phone in their hands recording trite things. 


those trite things used to be mine, and they’re not anymore. 


this is way longer than it needs to be. im doing more of these kinds of quasi-structured pieces that are casual shitposts, check them out. 


i hope your myth is good, because we all live mythically. marshall mcluhan said that— that the electrified age makes it so that we all live mythically. there’s no time for history, it’s all right now, always now, recorded and contextualized as now and is in relation to now. anything prior to now is just old now, it’s not history. 

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