I think I might see _____ soon. I miss her.


It's been forever and a day since the sadness had gone. But it's approaching again, in the sounds of laughter and mockery, in the tones of their voices when they attempt to speak

But I'm the one attempting.

(try not to fall keep your balance keep your feet)


I mutter, shake my head, and try to stop moving in that compulsive rocking motion that is instinct. They ask me questions and poke fun at it. Say I'm wrong. laugh a little more. Give each other looks that means they think I'm strange.

I am, don't try to hide that thought. I know I don't fit in, I know I know

Don't try to...

I want to. I want them to stop, leave me alone, it's better if they don't talk to me.

Can't I be invisible?



Allies come in the strangest of places, but can I trust them can I talk? Won't they be overwhelmed, or am I just self-centred? I mail One, who I knew before I Moved House, and One helps me  with the homework,

but that's not what I mean.

I mean the new ones-- well, I'm new not them so they don't quite get it-- can I talk to them? They have their own problems,

so just

shut your mouth stay quiet.

There's no point in talking to them.


There's a girl whose mother died just this past April. I don't know what to say to that. I know that my Mum could die, but I try not to entertain that thought because she's still got red blood and is alive.

Don't think about it much.

What if I do(say) something wrong? Will she hate me? They're all so dramatic on the edge of the cliff waiting to tumble over the edge. As if they can't wait at all, really.

And then there's the guys- men- scary, power don't like them. Intimidating.

They laugh and tease meanly, and I know it's bullying but it doesn't happen directly, or often enough, and the wording is pleasant but the tone is mocking, daring me and them to say something, to make fools of ourselves.


There was once a quote. It is better to be silent and thought a fool than to open one's mouth and remove all doubt.

I sound like a fool.

But I'm smart. I know I am.

Lately, with the muddlement of my thoughts... I'm beginning to doubt that.

And shouldn't it be my fault if I lose focus? If I'm a fool, it's blamed on me.


The words escape through the trees and their leaves, branches weaving and shaking in the wind, caressing the air as if happy to live.

There are train tracks, and I went exploring there once, imagining a place far away

what if I just started walking, following the tracks? What kind of place would it lead me to? would people help me out and lend me food shelter like in books?


It's the modern world. I'm stranded in the very place I call home, locked away in an ivory tower of loneliness and weak attempts at love.

Please allow me to laugh in joy, not in mockery. Say something funny, say something that will make me happy.

Because you deserve that kind of happiness, too.

Would you not be happy, making someone laugh?

The End

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