caliblog: based on a true story: If this all goes horribly wrong.

I think a lot about what might happen if this whole experiment goes end up. In the beginning, we were in pretty serious danger of tearing apart from the inside out. I've never wanted to go home as badly as my first month here. I was reminded of this, briefly, a few days ago when Mike got in my face about not writing with him.

I was sitting on the couch, reading a TV guide that had a Simpsons story on the cover. Maybe it was the fact that I was reading about television that got on his nerves. He made it a point to stand in front of me while saying he couldn't think of anything to write about. Then he asked me if I had any ideas.

Without looking up, I told him I couldn't think of anything and not to rush it. I think that's what pissed him off because he went on a rant about me never wanting to write. I've heard this rant before.

Truth be told, I haven't felt like writing in a long time. Our friendship, especially after we moved to California, has become more like a business partnership, and I'm the guy that never shows up to work. It was like moving here was signing a contract. We're all business from here out.

It was easy in High School. We were just goofing off when we made videos. I ponder often what we'd be doing right now if I'd never gotten him on the film kick in the first place.

Mike works like a freight train. He's always forcing himself. An effective method for him in the past. It got him to State finals in cross country, and rode him 2,500 miles on a bicycle across the United States.

It's the same method he's tried to force on me before. Three of us left, to ride from Michigan to California, and the second day I wanted to quit. As I sat on the side of the road, he stood next to me yelling about how I couldn't quit. How there were two walls, mental and physical and I was just hitting the first one.

I hated him. And I could tell he hated me for sitting there - doing nothing. If I'd been just another guy on a track team, he'd probably have written me off right then.

It's happened like that before. Back in high school even, we'd have these huge arguments about who was putting enough work into what. It was my fault most of the time. I have a tendency to be lazy.

I guess I'm one of those people that just takes it all. It was my suggestion to come to California and I seem to suffer for it every day.

I wish I had said more when he apologized. I just said "That's ok." Then I got on the computer to research the new trip, just to show him I was trying my best. I can't believe how submissive I was.

It wouldn't have mattered much anyway. Mike feels like I joke so much that it's impossible for us to have a serious conversation. Looking back on the five years we've been hanging out, I can only think of one.

We've had quite a few fights here, though I've never mentioned it. I remember another ending a little worse. I stormed out of the room and told Billy I just wanted "friends that don't expect anything from me." I cursed myself for ever stretching out my hand to touch something I apparently didn't have the desire to grab.

Billy said I've been introspective lately. One of the hardest things I've ever had to come to grips with is that I'm completely apathetic. I asked him if I was once, and he said not really. I think he was just being nice. Really, I'd prefer to do nothing at all.

I guess lately I've felt like a bit of a fraud. All these people keep telling me how great we are and how we're an inspiration to all the people out there going after their goals - and here I am, borderline all the time. Always ready to go back to my home, to my comfort zone where I can manage a soup store and live in obscurity, away from friends that expect more from me.

But a verse I've heard often from my father keeps coming back into my head...