Summer=Chicken Plate

During 10th grade, hidden far away from the critics of the world, I made my first recording about ‘my’ sitcom, The Presenters, with a story about how Harold was having difficulty relating to his son, Hal. He tries to remedy this by mentioning all of the girls in Hal’s life, expecting some kind of reaction. It became an obsession of mine and every single Monday, I would go back to my hiding space, located at the edge of the school, and let my ideas flutter away in the form of an awkward teenager’s constant ramblings. I’ve only told five people about the recordings, and probably won’t let others know about it since my voice is an acquired taste. Shortly after making the story recordings, I embarked on a journey even I wasn’t sure I wanted to take: to explain the machinations, the fascinations, and the folly of my mind. How the great essayists of our time could take the same journey and survive still impresses me. For 22 episodes, I became the question and the answer to all random thoughts. It’s something I’d like to share with everyone in a different way. Seriously, you can’t listen to a person’s terrible accents for twenty minutes even if you tried. Summer will be over soon and I couldn’t think of a better way to commemorate this upcoming event than with the transcript of when I pontificated on the meaning of summer. It was a year ago, summer had just began, and an 11th grade-going-into-12th grade boy sat quietly in his room, waiting for his thoughts to arrange themselves correctly...

...This is the special summer edition. (taps on the window three times) Thought the window was open. This is the special summer edition, where I’m going to talk about how excellent it is now summer. But, I’m not sure what else can come out. If anything. I know that it has been a few weeks since the last one* but that’s just because I’ve been occupied with my own, um, with my own...purposes. Bu, not purposes. I’ve been occupied  with my own, um...I’ve been...busy. Simple enough. Okay, well, to start with...it’s summer. The temperature is going to get warmer,  people are going to get...warmer, uh(nervous laugh), it’s just that time, it’s a transition from...let’s say a tight-packed piece of meat to something that’s been cooked for a couple of minutes and is going to get ready to be served. Somewhere in the, uh, nice, fancy restaurant. Summer is the time where we’re sitting on that plate, in that nice, fancy restaurant, contemplating all the mistakes we have made but not caring because we are about to get eaten. I think that’s the best way I, we can describe summer. At least, one of the non-poetic ways that I’ve come up with.

Now this makes more sense.