arg mcdougall How to start something I don't know? Right now I am alone. In reality, this isn't true. I am in a computer lab with two other people. I don't know either of them. They are nursing students and are talking about school. I can't think about school right now. Last Thanksgiving marked the date where I began to feel all alone. I don't want to complain about crap here so I'll just leave it at that. I hate complaining. It makes me feel as if I am helpless and needy. The title keeps going through my head. Wait a minute; I'll try a different view point. He wore a pair of blue Adidas Gazelles and two white socks, which could be seen when he sat down, on his feet. His pants were cream colored, and had more than a few pockets one the legs. His black shirt, which fit him well, was advertising a band that he enjoyed from time to time. It wasn't his shirt though it was one he found in his room. He shared a house with a family of three, and on weekends four. The family was a friend of his and the house belonged to them. The one member that was there on the weekends was one of the boy's best friends whom he had known since the second grade and had gone away to college. The other three were girls; the overly kind and placid mother, the percussion playing high school student/band member who had lots of friends and seemed to have them all over on the weekends, and the middle school student who has no free time because of band and gymnastics and keeping on the honor roll at school. The boy in the black shirt hardly sees this family though because he is in and out from work and school and what not. That black shirt of his that he doesn't own though may belong to that member of the family that comes home on the weekends, but it may also belong to one of his friends that come over to spend the night on a regular basis. he never knows who will be there, partially because of the college-going weekend room mate of his, and the sign on the door stating that the room is open for all friends of the inmate using the room as his living quarters. Last year it was the college bound senior living there, who now, as a college student, is only seen on weekends; which is an understatement, because the only one who sees him on weekends is his high school girl friend who lives out in the middle of nowhere. The boy with the band shirt doesn't mind the traffic though. He is used to it. He works in a well know coffee shop in the middle of downtown horse country. He enjoys being able to say hello to people. That’s what people do here though, they aren’t friendly; they just say "hey there, how are you" then keep on walking. This boy though, the one with those blue shoes, he cares. Oh yeah, the whole living with another family thing. This cream colored pants wearer does have a family of his own, it’s just that they moved away, leaving boy-with-white-socks in that town he has lived in since first grade to start college. Oh now, don't feel bad for this guy, he doesn't deserve it, that’s not the whole story. He didn't have the best of grades or S.A.T. scores so he only got into the college that was in the city which made up horse country. It’s his entire fault he is still there. He decided not to move up north. He opted to stay in school where his friends either live, or come to on the weekends and on major holidays from their college of choice. That boy who wore those shoes which had the name of a four legged mammal that is known for being strong in the legs also had a bracelet on his left wrist. It looked like there were two but in all actuality there was one that was connected in one place. It was red and white and was made entirely by the boy’s right hand, out of dental floss. The bracelet doesn’t have a pleasant smell of mint or cinnamon anymore but it does look like a candy cane because of the way it wraps around his wrist. On the boy shirt there is a quote. It doesn’t say who said it or where it is from but it is expected that it is from a song by the band whose name is on the shirt. This bracelet wearing boy is now all alone in a room with a substantial amount of computers. He is typing something, which he believes to be helpful to him and important, for others to read. The readers will later relies, though, that it is only a waste of their time and that the author should have probably spent his time doing something more productive. The boy with the quote on his black band shirt, which isn't even his, is self consciously neglecting his other friends in that old quiet horse love community of which he lives to write something that makes him look like something he probably isn't. He is actually a nice guy. He is not as depressing as he seems and is actually a lot of fun. What the boy with the bracelet resembling a candy cane didn't include in his writing for all of those other people is that he... ~END~ That’s a whole lot better. I don’t feel as frustrated now. I love writing. 030114 ... mcdougall A passion, new in my life for the first time, reawakened from the depths of my heart, my mind, and my soul. The main stirrer of the flames being red, or maybe read, all over and made from words. This is a thank you; it goes out to everyone here. Next comes... 030115 what's it to you? who go blather from