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Humor & Satire | Graduating senior fortells his own grim, bleak future

Columnist

Published: Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Updated: Wednesday, April 18, 2012 15:04

I’ll let you all in on a little secret. Ever since I was just a young boy, I’ve been blessed with—nay, cursed with!—a terrible ability: the power to foretell the future from vague omens only I’m able to interpret. For example, when I was nine years old, I observed that I consistently developed an erection each time I watched the animated television program “Dragon Ball Z.” From this observation alone, I was able to predict that some day far in the future I would become a homosexual and also a little bit of a weirdo. More recently, when I realized that in one month I would graduate from Vassar with a degree in English, an elaborate outline of the next year of my life suddenly appeared to me in the form of a collection of hastily-written diary excerpts.

I figured why not allow all of you to benefit from my cursed affliction. Behold your future, future alumni. But beware—it’s bleak.

May 19: AH! Graduation is just a day away! I feel so free but also a little bit sad about never seeing my friends again except for on Facebook. I’m still not sure what my plans are because I’m waiting to hear back from some jobs that I responsibly applied to weeks ago. SO DON’T ASK ME AGAIN GREAT UNCLE IRVING. DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING TODAY?

May 20: I’M CRYING TOO MUCH TO WRITE IN A FUCKING DIARY. GO AWAY.

May 21: Wow. I’m having really complex thoughts about the nature of temporality. Four years ago graduation seemed like a whole four years away, but now it seems like it was just yesterday. Does that disrupt linear notions of time or what??? Glad my liberal arts education is still enlightening my perception of life! Also, I got rejected from six jobs today.

June 10: Back home trying to figure out my life! My friend Carrot (yeah, she changed it after declaring a Geography major) is planning to move to the forest and live in a commune built from sticks, rocks, and the decomposing bodies of capitalists. She invited me to live with her, but I think I want to be somewhere a little more urban, somewhere like Brooklyn, so I can help stop gentrification and stuff.

June 11: Well, the commune option is out. Carrot got a job convincing indigenous peoples to donate their rainforests to McDonald’s. She’s making like 50K a year. I knew I should have taken a foreign language!

September 1: WOW! September already? This summer sure flew by! It’s crazy that I’m still living in my childhood bedroom in Scranton. HaHaHaHa. NO MOM I’M NOT STILL DRINKING YOUR FRANZIA SHUT UP IT’S ONLY FOUR A.M. GET OUT OF MY ROOM. Did I write that? Oh. I meant to say it.

October 12: Wait, have you guys heard of this game called FarmVille? I’m really into it lately. It’s very fulfilling. Still no job offers, but my parents said they’d pay me five dollars an hour to stand in the front yard and growl at the neighbors. Things are looking up!

November 18: The police said they found me at the middle school bus stop down the street from my house. Allegedly I was screaming, “I’M NOT LIVING WITH MY PARENTS, I’M QUEERING THE NUCLEAR FAMILY!” They said the children were crying. I don’t remember.

December 25: For Christmas my mom bought herself a crew neck sweatshirt that says, “I Love My Stay At Home Tom.” She says she’s glad I’ll be by her side throughout her old age.

February 14: You know, it’s actually great to have so much free time. In honor of Valentine’s Day I started writing my young adult novel for gay youth titled, “It Will Get a Little Better for Four Years but Then Unimaginably Worse.” It’s pretty much autobiographical except I took creative liberties and turned every guy I’ve ever been with into a Vampire Sex God, and no one ever describes the protagonist as “grossly emaciated” or “hard to have a conversation with.”

May 26, 2013- Wow! Sure has been a while. I made great progress on my YA Novel—it’s 666 pages of blood, sex, and loneliness! I even got it published! I mean if you define “publishing” as printing 200 copies at the public library, binding them with strands of hair, and distributing the manuscripts at local elementary schools during lunchtime. HEY P.S.! I’m writing this from prison! It turns out my book was considered “pornography” by some crazy conservative definition and breaking into an elementary school is considered “a crime.” Whatever.

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