I took a step outside into the cool of the dark early morning. I proceeded to sit on the steps outside of the front door. I stuck my hand in my right pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. I lit my cigarette and gazed at the stars. I gently puffed out a cloud of smoke. I felt wonderful. Last night was a disaster, and I felt wonderful. My parent’s were screaming at each other aimlessly in the wilderness late last night and I felt wonderful. I feel so relaxed.

I was walking down the hallway blasting music in my ears, trying my best to ignore the group of obnoxious boys behind me when all of a sudden I saw him. There was a crowd of people going back to class from lunch and I saw him. He was with a couple of other people when one of his friends decided to tickle the crap out of him. It was childish, but it looked so cute to me. He had these perfect cheeks, and I could just die when he smiled. In return I smiled. There was a gap in the crowd, for a moment, and while he was laughing he looked back at me. Straight at me for a solid moment. The smile never left his face. Nor did mine. Then the moment died off and things carried on. I can’t begin to recount how many times this had happened. From the first day I arrived at this school, I saw him there, I think in the office. We made eye contact constantly. Like this mutual unspoken “hey there”. But never have we spoken. He always looks so happy. I'm happy.

Sometimes I pretend. I pretend inside my head, so no one can see it. It always happens when I am listening to music. The more bass, more rage, or more passion the song has, the better. Often I have powers. I destroy things, but not always to hurt people, but mainly to get a message across. If I had powers like that and I used them, I believe more people would listen to me. Power = attention. Other times, it’s as if I’m living in a musical. I get up on the Lunch table and start belting a song, and everyone is in a trance. Once again focus. When I think about my self, my family, my friends, my romantic relationships, and my social ability. I think I am exceeding, that I am doing great. But I’m not. It’s so hard. People are so hard. I have so many things that I want to say, but once I speak, it gets “translated” unaccordingly to my thoughts, and I am so frustrated. Why can’t people just get me the way I see myself. Does everyone go through this? Do we look at ourselves as these three dimensional complex beings because we see our whole picture all the time, and when we look towards others, do we see only crumbs? Minuscule pieces, to what is a whole person, but were afraid of misinterpreting the design so we steer away or purposely destroy them? Life is so unbelievably difficult.

My body is rushing. I am always rushing. I'm excited. Oh my god. I saw your face. Excited. I cant help but gaze all over you again and again and again and again and again, all within seconds. Hormones. I can’t help but think I am so ugly. Not because that’s what everyone thinks about themselves, but because I am so big. I can’t even fit clothes that I would just die to wear. Hormones. Ooh but I saw you again and that thought whipped away. I am so happy. I can feel it. Physically. All over. Hormones. I just want you. I want you every way possible. I want you physically. I want to know you mentally. I want to be comfortable around you.Hormones. Lust.

These last four pieces were just thoughts. There was no reason to write them down, but i did. Two of them were based on Infatuation, which is a feeling I feel strongly and have felt a lot as of recently. So of course, if I scrape the surface, that is what I definitely feel the most passionate about, and it’s intriguing the way those feelings are released but also heightened when I write about them. Another piece was about the way I view myself along with how not only I deal with people, but the way I assume other’s also feel about each other. It also gives light to my depression, which I didn't even realize until I reread the paragraph a few times. But the first piece also gives in to the depression a little bit too. It sounds as though I feel great and amazing, and to an extent I do. See, I detach myself way too easily, and that’s what the piece really means. I've dealt with problems similar to that way too often for way too long now. All that I am capable of doing in a constant motion is to focus and take care of myself. And I don’t want to be this way, but family truly pushes me into that hole. Without a doubt, after analyzing the pieces, I sound a lot like a ****** teenager, and If that is what I am so be it.