mistershin
I've never asked a girl to a dance. It's pretty pathetic, considering the fact that I'm nearing the second semester of my high school senior year.
I don;t know what stops me, but I have this inherent break, some sort of mechanical disinclination to intimate commitment.
I've never felt the thorns of a rose, but I've experienced the sharp pangs of loneliness.
I think I won't ever grow up to drink. Not even a single shot.
See, I'm afraid of what I might do when I'm not in control. I don't have a firm grasp on reality to begin with.
And I think that if I let my demons in, they'll take my darkest secrets and showcase them for the world to judge.
I think I first saw it in a picture, an unintelligible line running down the midde. It was almost imperceptible, but upon closer inspection, there was no mistaking its existence.
I must've looked at the picture a thousand times, and each time, the line seemed to grow and proliferate.
It was the scar, not of a physical wound, but one that ran deep in her heart.
I'm going to my friend's 18th today. She's excited, and I'd be too. It's funny how our relationship had fermented over the years.
I met her in elementary school, didn't see her till a fateful Speech and Debate tournament not too long ago. Since then, we've corresponded and told eac other the darker secrets of the heart, and bonded in a way that is only possible through the weathering of time.
And today, as I'm about to take the BART to here home, I reflect on the panoramic growth of our relationship, and how we're not even halfway done.
My sister was a quiet person. She was always polite, and didn't know how to raise her voice. She might've been passive, but she was more of the Stoic types, in my opinion.
I loved her, even to her last breath. When some monster took her life and her dignity.
I got to see the body, and the physical injuries that defiled her. The ones on her genitals, and the stab to her right temple.
I was swimming today, and practice was terrible. I forgot my goggles, so I had to use someone else's prescription goggles. Everything was blurry, and I must've smashed my fingers on the lane lines about ten times.
There was a light at the end of the lane, though, and I'm not sure, but the prescribed goggles gave me nothing but an array of colors.
Pixelated colors, a palette of different hues. Telling me exactly where to go.
I went to SF today, for a bay area Red Cross meeting. It was boring, definitely not the crux of this little post.
When I stepped outside of the building, I went for some food and was stopped by the enticing three story building next to Subway. It was a bookstore.
And so, my lunch money went into getting Socrates some publisher's pay. It was okay though. The knowledge of a legend was beckoning me to join him.
I had a group of the most amazing acquaintences ever.
They're dead and gond though.
There's something interesting about the concept of a Christian death: we rejoice at the funeral, because it is good; they are passing to a better place, a place free of worry, hate and sadness.
I'm sure their views from heaven is better than mine here.
There's a girl I truly hate. She's a domineering girl, and I'm sure she won't have a boyfriend for while. No one likes to have a loud and obnoxious friend.
And there's this girl that everyone loves. I know her, we talk, and I appreciate wht she has to offer.
And the first girl knows it, she's jealous. I saw ambivalence well up in her furtive glance across to the second girl. A sneaky, envious prayer.
I always wanted an older sister. Someone to help me out when I needed guidance, someone to side with me despite my errors, and someone to drive me to and from places.
I think it was with this mentality that I always searched for a figure to fill that type of role. It was a selfish endeavor, and ne that was doomed to fail.
Yes, I ended up with a platinum-coated heart and a hesitancy to be ashamed of.
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