For the longest time I have put off writing anything personal on this blog. It's just something I didn't want to do, but today I had a sudden urge to actually tell you what's going on in my life.
My mother and father left two days ago on a bus to New York to catch their flight to Hong Kong today. They will be gone for about 2 months and I already miss them. Mom is going there to spend time with grandpa before he passes away. Dad is going with Mom because he has more fun in China and New York then he would ever have being at home. I'm almost certain by the time my sister graduates from college they will both go to China and live the rest of their lives there. My Dad hates being in America, simply because he doesn't know English well enough to enjoy life here in the states. I feel sorry for him because I can't imagine what he's going through. He literally plays Chinese Chess and watches TV all day with very little social interaction from the outside world. I can tell how happy he is when my brother and I come home because it's somebody to talk to.
My brother is going to Shanghai this summer for an internship for two months and then studying aboard at a international university in China. I'm really glad that he went to China this past summer because I think that's what really sparked his interest in investing more time there. I really proud of my brother to be willing to go to a place so far away from home by himself. At times I think he's the oldest one in the family and he has matured a lot this past year.
My sister took her SATs yesterday and believes she destroyed the reading section, I hope she does. I'm a little skeptical about this because she was nowhere near close to perfect on her PSATs. I'm a little worried about her since she will be at home by herself for about two months. I think she'll be fine though, she's old enough to take care of herself and she isn't the type to throw epic parties while our parents are gone.
I'm still very hung up on what I want to do this summer. I have a phone interview with the TIP program at Duke tomorrow morning. I have to tell Youth Villages if I want to work for them over the summer soon and I'm not sure if I will hear back from Upward Bound and Duke before the deadline. How troublesome. I'm sure everything will work out though! Alright, that's enough about me. Nothing personal.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
We can do it!
Too often, it seems, this attitude is missing from teams, organizations or the community.
It's missing because people are quick to opt out of the 'we' part. "What do you mean, we?" they ask. It's so easy to not be part of we, so easy to make it someone else's problem, so easy to not to take responsibility as a member of whatever tribe you're part of.
Sometimes it's missing because people disagree about what 'it' is. If you don't know what you're after, it's unlikely you're going to find it.
And it's missing because people confuse cynicism with realism, and are afraid to say "can". They'd rather say 'might' or even 'probably won't'.
Just about everything worth doing is worth doing because it's important and because the odds are against you. If they weren't, then anyone could do it, so don't bother.
Product launches, innovations and initiatives by any organization work better when the key people agree on the goal, believe that they can achieve it and that the plan will work.
Do we have a cynicism shortage? Unlikely.
Successful people rarely confuse a can-do attitude with a smart plan. But they realize that one without the other is unlikely to get you very far.
Count me in. Let's go.
It's missing because people are quick to opt out of the 'we' part. "What do you mean, we?" they ask. It's so easy to not be part of we, so easy to make it someone else's problem, so easy to not to take responsibility as a member of whatever tribe you're part of.
Sometimes it's missing because people disagree about what 'it' is. If you don't know what you're after, it's unlikely you're going to find it.
And it's missing because people confuse cynicism with realism, and are afraid to say "can". They'd rather say 'might' or even 'probably won't'.
Just about everything worth doing is worth doing because it's important and because the odds are against you. If they weren't, then anyone could do it, so don't bother.
Product launches, innovations and initiatives by any organization work better when the key people agree on the goal, believe that they can achieve it and that the plan will work.
Do we have a cynicism shortage? Unlikely.
Successful people rarely confuse a can-do attitude with a smart plan. But they realize that one without the other is unlikely to get you very far.
Count me in. Let's go.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Dandelion Wine
Lisa sat at the window, her drawing pad sitting on her lap, softly illuminated by the Hummel lamp her parents had brought back from Germany. She sketched a dandelion with her colored pencils, bright and yellow, while her sisters, nieces and nephews drowned her father in animated noise downstairs. Quiet as she was, she wouldn't silence them for anything, it let her know there was life in the house.
The dandelion reminded her of her best friend Scott, the day they met in the park.
Scott had always been a sensitive boy. His grandparents bought him a plastic swimming pool when he was very young, before he was made to go to school. He never used it. One day, he went out to play, after several days of mostly constant rain. The pool was filled with brownish water and soaked leaves.
Scott found a stick and poked at the vegetation floating in the pool. A drowned mouse drifted out from underneath. With great urgency, he ran inside to the kitchen, to get his mother. He pulled on her dress, crying and pointing at the pool. She ran outside with him.
He pointed at the mouse.
"Oh," She said, thinking he wanted to splash around in the water, "I don't think you should get in the pool. That mouse might have had a disease."
"Get it out!"
His mother still didn't understand, "No honey, it's dead. Stay out of the water."
"Why did it die?"
"Things die, Scott. That's what happens."
He hated that answer. She was his mother. Mothers knew everything. She should be able to give him a better answer than that.
Scott never forgot about that mouse. When he would be sitting alone in the living room, sometimes he would remember it, floating in the water, never again to do the things a mouse did. Or when he strolled the playground during recess, alone because the other kids only made fun of him, he would think of that mouse, alone in the pool, never again to have friends, or be able to go home to its mother.
It was around the fourth of July, and Scott's stepfather had bought two bags of M-80s. Not doing a very good job of hiding them from a young boy, he stuffed them inside the coffee table. Scott found them easily, but didn't bother with them at first, preferring to help his mother in the kitchen.
One morning, watching cartoons, he noticed a popping sound outside. He peeked out the window, careful to not be seen, and watched Kevin lighting firecrackers. Kevin was one of the boys from school who would have nothing to do with him on the playground. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, piling plastic green soldiers on top of a firecracker and then watching as they were blown apart.
Kevin grabbed one of the bags of M-80s and a punk, lighting it on the gas stove. Outside, he threw out an M-80 and covered his ears until it exploded, echoing throughout the neighborhood. Kevin saw him standing there with the bag, "Are those yours?!"
"Yeah, want some?"
That was one of the greatest days of Scott's life, the first any of the other boys had accepted him. By the time the afternoon had rolled around, several neighborhood boys had collected around him, some even from the high school--the ones who always rode in the back of the bus. They set off M-80s throughout the neighborhood, in drainage pipes, in bottles, under the water. Each explosion was more impressive than the last. Scott was down to ten M-80s and everyone agreed the park would be the best place to detonate them.
At the last M-80, Kevin had an idea, "Let's get a turtle!"
Scott remained quiet. He didn't want to say anything to ruin his acceptance. Silently, he hoped they wouldn't find a turtle. But they did.
Scott became more desperate as they hauled the turtle to a tree.
"Come on, leave it alone!"
"Shut up! It'll be cool!"
One of the high schoolers found a rock and took out his pocket knife.
"No!" Scott screamed, then started to cry.
The other boys laughed at him, called him a sissy as they hammered the turtle to the tree. There, it writhed for a few minutes as the older boys shoved the last M-80 into its mouth.
Scott ran, leaving the laughter behind, unable to get away from the thought that the turtle would never again be able to do the things a turtle did.
After running until his breath was gone, he stopped near a girl, small and pale, picking dandelions. She looked up at him with large, green and unjudging eyes, "Hi."
A boom echoed somewhere in the distance.
"Those are pretty," Scott said, choking back tears, not wanting to reveal his weakness to the girl.
"They're for my aunt and uncle. To make wine. You can help if you want."
Scott sat down in the patch of yellow and picked dandelions. He pulled up an old white one.
Lisa smiled, "Those are pretty, too. But I don't think they can make wine with them. What kind of flower is that?"
"It's a dandelion, silly. They get old and die. That's what happens."
Lisa was saddened by this revelation. But Scott blew on the dandelion, sending tufts of white fuzz floating away on the wind, and Lisa smiled, realizing that was what dandelions did.
The dandelion reminded her of her best friend Scott, the day they met in the park.
Scott had always been a sensitive boy. His grandparents bought him a plastic swimming pool when he was very young, before he was made to go to school. He never used it. One day, he went out to play, after several days of mostly constant rain. The pool was filled with brownish water and soaked leaves.
Scott found a stick and poked at the vegetation floating in the pool. A drowned mouse drifted out from underneath. With great urgency, he ran inside to the kitchen, to get his mother. He pulled on her dress, crying and pointing at the pool. She ran outside with him.
He pointed at the mouse.
"Oh," She said, thinking he wanted to splash around in the water, "I don't think you should get in the pool. That mouse might have had a disease."
"Get it out!"
His mother still didn't understand, "No honey, it's dead. Stay out of the water."
"Why did it die?"
"Things die, Scott. That's what happens."
He hated that answer. She was his mother. Mothers knew everything. She should be able to give him a better answer than that.
Scott never forgot about that mouse. When he would be sitting alone in the living room, sometimes he would remember it, floating in the water, never again to do the things a mouse did. Or when he strolled the playground during recess, alone because the other kids only made fun of him, he would think of that mouse, alone in the pool, never again to have friends, or be able to go home to its mother.
It was around the fourth of July, and Scott's stepfather had bought two bags of M-80s. Not doing a very good job of hiding them from a young boy, he stuffed them inside the coffee table. Scott found them easily, but didn't bother with them at first, preferring to help his mother in the kitchen.
One morning, watching cartoons, he noticed a popping sound outside. He peeked out the window, careful to not be seen, and watched Kevin lighting firecrackers. Kevin was one of the boys from school who would have nothing to do with him on the playground. He seemed to be enjoying himself immensely, piling plastic green soldiers on top of a firecracker and then watching as they were blown apart.
Kevin grabbed one of the bags of M-80s and a punk, lighting it on the gas stove. Outside, he threw out an M-80 and covered his ears until it exploded, echoing throughout the neighborhood. Kevin saw him standing there with the bag, "Are those yours?!"
"Yeah, want some?"
That was one of the greatest days of Scott's life, the first any of the other boys had accepted him. By the time the afternoon had rolled around, several neighborhood boys had collected around him, some even from the high school--the ones who always rode in the back of the bus. They set off M-80s throughout the neighborhood, in drainage pipes, in bottles, under the water. Each explosion was more impressive than the last. Scott was down to ten M-80s and everyone agreed the park would be the best place to detonate them.
At the last M-80, Kevin had an idea, "Let's get a turtle!"
Scott remained quiet. He didn't want to say anything to ruin his acceptance. Silently, he hoped they wouldn't find a turtle. But they did.
Scott became more desperate as they hauled the turtle to a tree.
"Come on, leave it alone!"
"Shut up! It'll be cool!"
One of the high schoolers found a rock and took out his pocket knife.
"No!" Scott screamed, then started to cry.
The other boys laughed at him, called him a sissy as they hammered the turtle to the tree. There, it writhed for a few minutes as the older boys shoved the last M-80 into its mouth.
Scott ran, leaving the laughter behind, unable to get away from the thought that the turtle would never again be able to do the things a turtle did.
After running until his breath was gone, he stopped near a girl, small and pale, picking dandelions. She looked up at him with large, green and unjudging eyes, "Hi."
A boom echoed somewhere in the distance.
"Those are pretty," Scott said, choking back tears, not wanting to reveal his weakness to the girl.
"They're for my aunt and uncle. To make wine. You can help if you want."
Scott sat down in the patch of yellow and picked dandelions. He pulled up an old white one.
Lisa smiled, "Those are pretty, too. But I don't think they can make wine with them. What kind of flower is that?"
"It's a dandelion, silly. They get old and die. That's what happens."
Lisa was saddened by this revelation. But Scott blew on the dandelion, sending tufts of white fuzz floating away on the wind, and Lisa smiled, realizing that was what dandelions did.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Self Reflection
You know when you read biographies of people long since dead and someone says something like "it's interesting how kind he was to his employees but was so cruel to his relatives" and you think, man I wonder if they ever questioned themselves about that. Or you read memoirs and the person sort of casually mentions how it took them twenty years to realize they were a workaholic or half a decade to figure out that they hated their life and the other half digging themselves out of that impossible hole.
I think a good, but unending job is to endeavor so that no one ever questions something about your life that you haven't already fully turned over in your head from every possible angle. That you should never realize something about yourself in some momentous epiphany because you've institutionalized incremental reflection. The role of a biography is not to work out the problems that you've been living every single day because in fact, that's what every single day is for.
The exercise then is to consider what a stranger would think if the facts were all laid out on the table. What would they question? What have you missed? Finally, what can you do now that would cut off their assumptions--to answer their doubts with actions and avoid the surprise of a cliché?
I never really write about my past relationships on here and it's strange because they have definitely shaped and influenced who I am today.
I will be the first to admit that I have made really shitty decisions, ones with no real winner and enough of them for me to learn what not to do.
But looking back there are quite a few decisions I made that I am not proud of. Priorities and internal logic that were embarrassing at best and disturbing at worst.
There is a good line in Meditations where he says something like never do anything that you will worry about remaining 'behind closed doors'. I think the same goes for how you treat the important people in your life. And when I look back on things, there's a lot I could never justify to a third party. I regret that and it's something I'd like to put an end to doing.
I think a good, but unending job is to endeavor so that no one ever questions something about your life that you haven't already fully turned over in your head from every possible angle. That you should never realize something about yourself in some momentous epiphany because you've institutionalized incremental reflection. The role of a biography is not to work out the problems that you've been living every single day because in fact, that's what every single day is for.
The exercise then is to consider what a stranger would think if the facts were all laid out on the table. What would they question? What have you missed? Finally, what can you do now that would cut off their assumptions--to answer their doubts with actions and avoid the surprise of a cliché?
I never really write about my past relationships on here and it's strange because they have definitely shaped and influenced who I am today.
I will be the first to admit that I have made really shitty decisions, ones with no real winner and enough of them for me to learn what not to do.
But looking back there are quite a few decisions I made that I am not proud of. Priorities and internal logic that were embarrassing at best and disturbing at worst.
There is a good line in Meditations where he says something like never do anything that you will worry about remaining 'behind closed doors'. I think the same goes for how you treat the important people in your life. And when I look back on things, there's a lot I could never justify to a third party. I regret that and it's something I'd like to put an end to doing.
Monday, March 1, 2010
6 lessons that I have learned
1. Time=Wealth
By far the most important lesson that I have learned is that your time is all you really own in life. And the more you go about your daily life, the more you realize that your most extravagant possessions can’t match the satisfaction you get from finding new experiences, meeting new people, and learning new things about yourself. “Value” is a word we often hear in day-to-day life, but I have learned that it is not pegged to a cash amount, that the best experiences in life can be had for the price of showing up (be it to helping a friend out, or a sunrise ten minutes from your home).
Scientific studies have shown that new experiences (and the memories they produce) are more likely to produce long-term happiness than new things. Consider ways you would want to spend the only thing that is really called your own. Spend less time working on things you don’t enjoy and buying things you don’t need; spend more time embracing the kinds of activities (learning new skills, meeting new people, spending time with friends and family) that make you feel alive and part of the world.
2. Be where you are. Embrace what is around you.
I encourage you all every time you are in a situation to fully force yourself in embracing the moment. Learn to appreciate the privilege of witnessing life as it happens before your eyes.
At home, how often do you really need to check your email or your Twitter feed? When you get online, are you there for a reason, or are you simply killing time? For all the pleasures and entertainments of the virtual-electronic world, there is no substitute for real-life conversation and connection, for getting ideas and entertainment from the people and places around you. Even at home, there are sublime rewards to be had for unplugging from online distractions and embracing the world before your eyes. Instead of passively learning about people's lives and reading about them, try and go out and experience life WITH them.
3. Slow Down
All too often, life at home is predicated on an irrational compulsion for speed — we rush to work, we rush through meals, we “multi-task” when we’re hanging out with friends. This might make our lives feel more streamlined in a certain abstracted sense, but it doesn’t make our lives happier or more fulfilling. Unless you learn to pace and savor your daily experiences (even your work-commutes and your noontime meals) you’ll cheating your days out of small moments of leisure, discovery and joy. Next time when you get a chance to spend time with someone or go to an event slow down and enjoy the moment, you'll be surprised on all the subtle cues and gestures that you've been missing out on.
4. Keep it Simple
abiding by the principles of simplicity can help you live in a more deliberate and time-rich way. How much of what you own really improves the quality of your life? Are you buying new things out of necessity or compulsion? Do the things you own enable you to live more vividly, or do they merely clutter up your life? Again, researchers have determined that new experiences satisfy our higher-order needs in a way that new possessions cannot — that taking a friend to dinner, for example, brings more lasting happiness than spending that money on a new shirt. In this way, investing less in new objects and more in new activities can make your life happier. This less materialistic state of mind will also help you save money for your next journey.
5. Don't set limits
Overcoming your fears and escaping your dull routines can deepen your life — and the open-to-anything confidence can be utilized to test new concepts in a business setting, rejuvenate relationships with friends and family, or simply ask that woman with the nice smile if she wants to go out for coffee. In refusing to set limits for what is possible on a given day, you open yourself up to an entire new world of possibility. Remember you only get to live once in this world so do not live your life in fear, learn to take calculated risks and appreciate everything that comes at you, both the good and the bad.
6. Being alone
Being alone forces you to interact with people around you in a manner that you wouldn't be able to do if you had a friend accompanying you. It's very easy to go to a party or an event and fall back on the safety net of a friend when there is nobody you know around you. However going into unfamiliar territory on your own convinces you to reach out to those who you are unfamiliar with. Back in high school I would go downtown to take ballroom lessons on my own, not only did I learn how to ballroom. I had the opportunity to learn more about the instructor's life and her views on various subjects. I would of never thought to talk to Karen about anything if I went with a group of friends. Eventually I even got free lessons from her, which is always a plus, because who doesn't like free stuff? Being alone allows you to self reflect on yourself and expand your horizons. Do not be afraid of going on an adventure on your own, you can learn many things about yourself and others in doing so.
By far the most important lesson that I have learned is that your time is all you really own in life. And the more you go about your daily life, the more you realize that your most extravagant possessions can’t match the satisfaction you get from finding new experiences, meeting new people, and learning new things about yourself. “Value” is a word we often hear in day-to-day life, but I have learned that it is not pegged to a cash amount, that the best experiences in life can be had for the price of showing up (be it to helping a friend out, or a sunrise ten minutes from your home).
Scientific studies have shown that new experiences (and the memories they produce) are more likely to produce long-term happiness than new things. Consider ways you would want to spend the only thing that is really called your own. Spend less time working on things you don’t enjoy and buying things you don’t need; spend more time embracing the kinds of activities (learning new skills, meeting new people, spending time with friends and family) that make you feel alive and part of the world.
2. Be where you are. Embrace what is around you.
I encourage you all every time you are in a situation to fully force yourself in embracing the moment. Learn to appreciate the privilege of witnessing life as it happens before your eyes.
At home, how often do you really need to check your email or your Twitter feed? When you get online, are you there for a reason, or are you simply killing time? For all the pleasures and entertainments of the virtual-electronic world, there is no substitute for real-life conversation and connection, for getting ideas and entertainment from the people and places around you. Even at home, there are sublime rewards to be had for unplugging from online distractions and embracing the world before your eyes. Instead of passively learning about people's lives and reading about them, try and go out and experience life WITH them.
3. Slow Down
All too often, life at home is predicated on an irrational compulsion for speed — we rush to work, we rush through meals, we “multi-task” when we’re hanging out with friends. This might make our lives feel more streamlined in a certain abstracted sense, but it doesn’t make our lives happier or more fulfilling. Unless you learn to pace and savor your daily experiences (even your work-commutes and your noontime meals) you’ll cheating your days out of small moments of leisure, discovery and joy. Next time when you get a chance to spend time with someone or go to an event slow down and enjoy the moment, you'll be surprised on all the subtle cues and gestures that you've been missing out on.
4. Keep it Simple
abiding by the principles of simplicity can help you live in a more deliberate and time-rich way. How much of what you own really improves the quality of your life? Are you buying new things out of necessity or compulsion? Do the things you own enable you to live more vividly, or do they merely clutter up your life? Again, researchers have determined that new experiences satisfy our higher-order needs in a way that new possessions cannot — that taking a friend to dinner, for example, brings more lasting happiness than spending that money on a new shirt. In this way, investing less in new objects and more in new activities can make your life happier. This less materialistic state of mind will also help you save money for your next journey.
5. Don't set limits
Overcoming your fears and escaping your dull routines can deepen your life — and the open-to-anything confidence can be utilized to test new concepts in a business setting, rejuvenate relationships with friends and family, or simply ask that woman with the nice smile if she wants to go out for coffee. In refusing to set limits for what is possible on a given day, you open yourself up to an entire new world of possibility. Remember you only get to live once in this world so do not live your life in fear, learn to take calculated risks and appreciate everything that comes at you, both the good and the bad.
6. Being alone
Being alone forces you to interact with people around you in a manner that you wouldn't be able to do if you had a friend accompanying you. It's very easy to go to a party or an event and fall back on the safety net of a friend when there is nobody you know around you. However going into unfamiliar territory on your own convinces you to reach out to those who you are unfamiliar with. Back in high school I would go downtown to take ballroom lessons on my own, not only did I learn how to ballroom. I had the opportunity to learn more about the instructor's life and her views on various subjects. I would of never thought to talk to Karen about anything if I went with a group of friends. Eventually I even got free lessons from her, which is always a plus, because who doesn't like free stuff? Being alone allows you to self reflect on yourself and expand your horizons. Do not be afraid of going on an adventure on your own, you can learn many things about yourself and others in doing so.
I don't feel like it
I don't feel like it
What is it?
But why does one need to feel like something in order to do the work?
They call it work because it's difficult, not because it's something you need to feel like.
Very few people wake up in the morning and feel like taking big risks or feel like digging deep for something that has eluded them. People don't usually feel like pushing themselves harder than they've pushed before or having conversations that might be uncomfortable. I challenge YOU to start doing things out of your confront zone, to start living your life with no fear, to understand that it's okay to fail.
What is it?
But why does one need to feel like something in order to do the work?
They call it work because it's difficult, not because it's something you need to feel like.
Very few people wake up in the morning and feel like taking big risks or feel like digging deep for something that has eluded them. People don't usually feel like pushing themselves harder than they've pushed before or having conversations that might be uncomfortable. I challenge YOU to start doing things out of your confront zone, to start living your life with no fear, to understand that it's okay to fail.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Guardian Angel
The bedroom was nearly barren, nothing but brown carpet and white walls, with a single night stand. David didn't care as he lay in bed, settling down into the indent his large body had formed in the mattress over the years. He slipped his headphones on and they instantly filled his head with synthesizer music he'd fished out of some dollar bin at K-Mart. He smiled back at the Panasonic Girl staring at him from atop his cassette player. She was his "guardian angel"--she was the only woman, other than his mother, he really knew. She came from the cardboard backing that packaged his headphones and was as flat as his life.
It was because of a real girl, Wendy, that David had finally left school. She wasn't the only reason, just the last straw. It was David's sophomore year of high school. He was much bigger than all of his classmates, but that would have been true even if he hadn't been held back. By junior high, everyone had realized it best to just leave him alone, unless they wanted end up a bloody mess like Danny had that one fateful day in fifth grade. David generally disliked his classmates, never forgetting the treatment he'd received all through school, and was mostly happy to be left to himself.
Still, he wasn't immune to the effects of loneliness. He was always envious of the guys he passed in the hallway, holding hands with their girlfriends, or guys getting love notes from girls in class. Sometimes he would see couples he knew from school just out at the movies having a good time, while he sat alone in the back, twitching in the flickering dark. David was a romantic; he might as well have been the Elephant Man.
He resigned himself to the fact he would be alone forever, unable to see a way anyone would change their attitude toward him. Thirteen years of school had conditioned everyone's attitude toward him. But he always held out hope when a new girl came to town. Wendy's father was in the ARMY and she had lived all over the place--some places David had only dreamt of, others he'd never even heard of. She was a cute, thin girl with curly, mid-length blonde hair, large blue eyes, a constant aura of strawberry scent and a body that made good use of all three dimensions. David first saw her in history class. He was alone in the room and heard someone come in. When he turned to see who it was, she was sitting down on the other side of the room. She looked up and held his gaze for a moment and smiled, "Hi!"
"Hi," David said quietly, as his face contorted. She smiled, but didn't laugh. David grinned and nodded. He felt his face turning red, heating up. A conversation had never before started that well for him and he didn't know what to do next. He turned and looked down at his notebook until Mr. Pearson arrived and started class. As it turned out, they had a few classes together.
Though, Wendy had made friends with several other girls, she never treated David as badly as they did. David took this to mean she liked him, not just liked him, but liked him. He dreamed of sitting with her at the movies, holding hands, smiling. Or they would go to McDonalds and sit alone in a booth, their surroundings melting away around them--all that would exist would be him and her and nothing would be able to tear them apart.
One afternoon, Wendy asked him if he was going to the upcoming dance. David remembered the last dance he'd been to. He had just stood there awkwardly, as though some sort of invisible shield made it impossible for anyone to come within twenty feet."No," he replied. After dinner, he laid in bed cursing at himself for not going. She was asking me to the dance! He thought, electronic Bach playing loudly on his cassette deck. Wendy consumed his mind as the hour grew late. He thought of her at home, laying in bed thinking of him at that same moment. What would he say to her tomorrow? He planned and re-planned, taking Wendy with him into his dreams, only to be interrupted by a pounding on the door, "David, turn that damn noise down! Some of us have to work around here!"
David walked the hallway to his locker the next morning, smiling brightly. Some of the other kids looked at him curiously. Others even greeted him. A group of Wendy's friends passed him, giggling. For once, he didn't think they were laughing at him. For once, he was wrong.
A few moments later, Wendy passed him in the hallway, holding hands with one of the football players. She didn't even notice David, as she giggled and chatted with her new boyfriend. The world seemed to darken a bit. David trudged through the rest of the day and was relieved when the final hour arrived.He sat in his usual place, across from Wendy, in art class.
"You're awfully quiet today," she grinned.
"Oh."
"Is it because of Jeff?" her grin widened. David's muscles tightened. His face contorted. Wendy laughed, "You are so weird! Why do you do that?" David raised an enormous pale fist and brought it down on the drawing table. The room instantly became silent and David rushed out to the hallway. A group of seniors, all wearing gym clothes, were out in the hallway pushing a smaller blonde boy back and forth between them. David recognized the blonde boy, but didn't really know him well. Everyone said he was gay.
"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" David boomed. "Why don't you mind your own business, retard?" One of the bigger boys replied. Without a pause, David marched up to him and grabbed his shirt. He threw the senior against the lockers and drove his fist into his face, easily breaking his nose. The other kids scattered in all directions and David continued to pound on his unconscious prey until two coaches and the principal pulled him away. David had lost all control, yelling "Fucker!" and twitching as they dragged him down the hall. He was suspended for a month for the incident, and would probably be held back again. David decided he'd had enough, and never returned.
New story that I've been working on. I know it's been awhile but I was told to be a better writer, you need to write more.
It was because of a real girl, Wendy, that David had finally left school. She wasn't the only reason, just the last straw. It was David's sophomore year of high school. He was much bigger than all of his classmates, but that would have been true even if he hadn't been held back. By junior high, everyone had realized it best to just leave him alone, unless they wanted end up a bloody mess like Danny had that one fateful day in fifth grade. David generally disliked his classmates, never forgetting the treatment he'd received all through school, and was mostly happy to be left to himself.
Still, he wasn't immune to the effects of loneliness. He was always envious of the guys he passed in the hallway, holding hands with their girlfriends, or guys getting love notes from girls in class. Sometimes he would see couples he knew from school just out at the movies having a good time, while he sat alone in the back, twitching in the flickering dark. David was a romantic; he might as well have been the Elephant Man.
He resigned himself to the fact he would be alone forever, unable to see a way anyone would change their attitude toward him. Thirteen years of school had conditioned everyone's attitude toward him. But he always held out hope when a new girl came to town. Wendy's father was in the ARMY and she had lived all over the place--some places David had only dreamt of, others he'd never even heard of. She was a cute, thin girl with curly, mid-length blonde hair, large blue eyes, a constant aura of strawberry scent and a body that made good use of all three dimensions. David first saw her in history class. He was alone in the room and heard someone come in. When he turned to see who it was, she was sitting down on the other side of the room. She looked up and held his gaze for a moment and smiled, "Hi!"
"Hi," David said quietly, as his face contorted. She smiled, but didn't laugh. David grinned and nodded. He felt his face turning red, heating up. A conversation had never before started that well for him and he didn't know what to do next. He turned and looked down at his notebook until Mr. Pearson arrived and started class. As it turned out, they had a few classes together.
Though, Wendy had made friends with several other girls, she never treated David as badly as they did. David took this to mean she liked him, not just liked him, but liked him. He dreamed of sitting with her at the movies, holding hands, smiling. Or they would go to McDonalds and sit alone in a booth, their surroundings melting away around them--all that would exist would be him and her and nothing would be able to tear them apart.
One afternoon, Wendy asked him if he was going to the upcoming dance. David remembered the last dance he'd been to. He had just stood there awkwardly, as though some sort of invisible shield made it impossible for anyone to come within twenty feet."No," he replied. After dinner, he laid in bed cursing at himself for not going. She was asking me to the dance! He thought, electronic Bach playing loudly on his cassette deck. Wendy consumed his mind as the hour grew late. He thought of her at home, laying in bed thinking of him at that same moment. What would he say to her tomorrow? He planned and re-planned, taking Wendy with him into his dreams, only to be interrupted by a pounding on the door, "David, turn that damn noise down! Some of us have to work around here!"
David walked the hallway to his locker the next morning, smiling brightly. Some of the other kids looked at him curiously. Others even greeted him. A group of Wendy's friends passed him, giggling. For once, he didn't think they were laughing at him. For once, he was wrong.
A few moments later, Wendy passed him in the hallway, holding hands with one of the football players. She didn't even notice David, as she giggled and chatted with her new boyfriend. The world seemed to darken a bit. David trudged through the rest of the day and was relieved when the final hour arrived.He sat in his usual place, across from Wendy, in art class.
"You're awfully quiet today," she grinned.
"Oh."
"Is it because of Jeff?" her grin widened. David's muscles tightened. His face contorted. Wendy laughed, "You are so weird! Why do you do that?" David raised an enormous pale fist and brought it down on the drawing table. The room instantly became silent and David rushed out to the hallway. A group of seniors, all wearing gym clothes, were out in the hallway pushing a smaller blonde boy back and forth between them. David recognized the blonde boy, but didn't really know him well. Everyone said he was gay.
"Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" David boomed. "Why don't you mind your own business, retard?" One of the bigger boys replied. Without a pause, David marched up to him and grabbed his shirt. He threw the senior against the lockers and drove his fist into his face, easily breaking his nose. The other kids scattered in all directions and David continued to pound on his unconscious prey until two coaches and the principal pulled him away. David had lost all control, yelling "Fucker!" and twitching as they dragged him down the hall. He was suspended for a month for the incident, and would probably be held back again. David decided he'd had enough, and never returned.
New story that I've been working on. I know it's been awhile but I was told to be a better writer, you need to write more.
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