Post by James on Jul 2, 2008 20:19:51 GMT -5
I leaned back in the chair, trying to come up with something to write. Eventually, after many futile minutes of thinking, I sat up and just began to type. I had no idea what would come out of it, but I thought that writing something, anything, was better than trying and failing to come up with something to write.
I looked around the room. There was nothing there to inspire me. All I could see was my wallet, a stack of senior photos I hadn’t handed out yet, CDs and cases everywhere, and piles of papers cluttering the desk I sat at. iTunes was open and playing Green Day’s album American Idiot. I hadn’t had the best day, nor by far the worst. My public school career was almost done for good and I looked forward to it being over. I was in a sort of rustic feeling mood and had the lights off and the computer screen set on 256 Grays, just for a change. Eighteen years of living and so little to show for it: no girlfriend, nine novels in progress, a weird sense of humor, lack of good jokes, and a whole lot of other faults.
My life seemed to slowly go on. It almost seems as if I’m living in a movie. Everything from the past eighteen years has been going through my head for the past week. Things I didn’t remember happening are playing on repeat. Slowly but surely, my mind moves from the happier moments to the more dark ones. I go and I start to think about the days when I strayed from what I knew was right and did what I knew to be wrong. I bullied the kids who were my friends just the year before and treated them like crap. I didn’t give that much thought in my spare moments though. Actually, all I did in my spare moments back then was crack open a book or listen to the radio and basically escape from the world until I occupied myself in some other way. If I was having a bad day, I’d leave the book on the night stand and I would keep the radio off and then I’d sit on the floor, or in my chair next to the window, or on the bed. And as I sat there, I was left with nothing but my own thoughts. These thoughts would start to torment me and before long I’d feel alone in the world, like no one was on my side. And, in a few years, I’d realized I was half right.
When I eventually started to realize that I’d become a huge ass, I started to change things. The friends I turned my back on I went back to and made amends without saying anything. I’m surprised in hindsight that they didn’t shun me away and pretty much just took me back. It took some time, but I got my life back where it should be and I turned my back on the scum that changed me. However, I still can’t help but look back and see how bad I was to the people that did nothing to me. I feel an inner pain of guilt and want to say I’m sorry, but I can’t get the words to sat to do it. So, if anyone reads this, and you know who you are, whatever I’ve done to you in the past that was bad, I’m sorry. I was a jackass and I know it, I just can’t muster the courage or the words to say it to your face. And also, thank you.
I looked around the room. There was nothing there to inspire me. All I could see was my wallet, a stack of senior photos I hadn’t handed out yet, CDs and cases everywhere, and piles of papers cluttering the desk I sat at. iTunes was open and playing Green Day’s album American Idiot. I hadn’t had the best day, nor by far the worst. My public school career was almost done for good and I looked forward to it being over. I was in a sort of rustic feeling mood and had the lights off and the computer screen set on 256 Grays, just for a change. Eighteen years of living and so little to show for it: no girlfriend, nine novels in progress, a weird sense of humor, lack of good jokes, and a whole lot of other faults.
My life seemed to slowly go on. It almost seems as if I’m living in a movie. Everything from the past eighteen years has been going through my head for the past week. Things I didn’t remember happening are playing on repeat. Slowly but surely, my mind moves from the happier moments to the more dark ones. I go and I start to think about the days when I strayed from what I knew was right and did what I knew to be wrong. I bullied the kids who were my friends just the year before and treated them like crap. I didn’t give that much thought in my spare moments though. Actually, all I did in my spare moments back then was crack open a book or listen to the radio and basically escape from the world until I occupied myself in some other way. If I was having a bad day, I’d leave the book on the night stand and I would keep the radio off and then I’d sit on the floor, or in my chair next to the window, or on the bed. And as I sat there, I was left with nothing but my own thoughts. These thoughts would start to torment me and before long I’d feel alone in the world, like no one was on my side. And, in a few years, I’d realized I was half right.
When I eventually started to realize that I’d become a huge ass, I started to change things. The friends I turned my back on I went back to and made amends without saying anything. I’m surprised in hindsight that they didn’t shun me away and pretty much just took me back. It took some time, but I got my life back where it should be and I turned my back on the scum that changed me. However, I still can’t help but look back and see how bad I was to the people that did nothing to me. I feel an inner pain of guilt and want to say I’m sorry, but I can’t get the words to sat to do it. So, if anyone reads this, and you know who you are, whatever I’ve done to you in the past that was bad, I’m sorry. I was a jackass and I know it, I just can’t muster the courage or the words to say it to your face. And also, thank you.