introversion

After the Rain

The sight of you broke my heart. Maybe it was because I wasn’t expecting it. Maybe it was because my spirit, before that moment my eyes discerned your dejectedly slumped form, soared with the respite from the rain. Maybe it was because you looked so forlorn, so helpless, so distant from me and the world we both inhabited—and somehow didn’t. As if this world had crushed you and cast you aside like so much refuse. Torn your proud colors and clothes, left you broken and useless, exposing the skeletal ribs beneath your thin skin.

Was I the only one that noticed?

Did you feel me staring at you? Did you resent how my feet carried me away? Because I, like all the other mechanical people around me, couldn’t stop. I had class; you had nothing to offer me.

Does it make it worse that I noticed and acted selfishly instead?

I’m sorry I didn’t stop for you. I’m sorry I could only stare. I’m sorry I couldn’t fix you. I’m sorry I left you to suffer in that ditch.

Unnoticed, forgotten, discarded umbrella.

Word count: 184

Decidí a quedar en LTSP 2A. He querido comprar un cuaderno para escribir en español y, en vez de escribiendo de mi vida aburrida en inglés pero no me gusta gastar dinero. Esta manera me ayudaría practicar mi español con la esperanza de mejorarlo. Ya siento descansada con la escuela and mis clases. No he terminado la primera semana, pero mi cerebro y cuerpo me dicen que semanas han pasado. Escribiendo como éste pasa demasiado tiempo y me hace pensar demasiado. Tengo mucho trabajo para llegar a ser dominar en español.

I am losing my ability to speak. I am losing my ability to write. This is… communication breakdown. Someone fix my head. I wonder what’s wrong with me, why I keep switching words or forgetting words when I type. Is it even a real problem or is it some mental block that’s keeping me from being coherent? So odd.

In other news, I am back in school already. The new quarter promises to be unpleasant. Papers, compositions, papers–at least we can’t argue in math, though the professor has an atrocious accent. I feel kind of sad, actually. The break really made me remember why I love home and it’s odd to be back here. And to be screwed over my something like a Spanish class that changes the readings in its reader every quarter. Who the hell thought of that? And I need my books; I’ll probably pick up the Norton today for Lit… and that damn reader.

Writing has never been so frustrating as it is now. I hate starting things and burning out on them. Although I’ve had a great amount of satisfaction from writing short fanfiction pieces for FMA (*drool*), it’s not the same as writing a story and it’s not nearly the same as shaping a plot since most of those are character studies. I hate not getting anywhere anymore.

Truth be told, it feels like my brain is falling apart. Already I don’t feel too motivated for this quarter; in fact, there’s this feeling that seems to be “let’s just give up now.” And, also, I feel distanced from high school already. It’s not that I don’t want to be with high school friends, it’s just that I feel like I can’t really connect anymore; I’ve not really changed, but I guess a part of me feels they have. I’ve never been good with this sort of thing; just look how my grade school contacts pretty much dissolved. I don’t know anymore… I’m starting to feel solitary again.