Growing up, I'd always been lbeled as such a voracious reader, but it wasn't until the 5th grade that I actually tried my hand at writing..
At first, it came out of boredom, for the lack of friends I had...then it was something more.
Not writing myself into other worlds to escape reality but more just writing to numb the clenching pain of lonliness. It's awlways been my demon.
I'm not an attention seeker but I do tend to get extremely lonely at times, and fly off the handle.
I just never hd that legendary friendahip that some kids reminisce about in the depths of old age.
My only true friends were the page of books. Maybe they still are...
They held me close t night, and laughed with me at all the right times. They cried with me when Old Yeller died and when Ralph Roberts risked his life to save little Natalie from the fatal collison of that car.
They even lulled me to sleel with theor honey sweet poetry, like music twisting around and dancing through my brain.
I do admit there are some times when I regret all of this.
My parents always say I'm so anti-social, I mean, I can't keep a friend to save my life.
Honestly, I just don't know how... But there are times when I do wish i could just take it alll back.
All the page I wrote, all the countless books I scoured over...just to have that one legendary friendship.
I know that it's in me, the power that I'm talking about; And I know thT books and writing aren't blocking it...but its been so long.. I don't know how to function on my own without this crutch holding me up.
If you took it out from underneath me, I'd be too weak to pull myself up.
I'd just lie there, mourning the passing of life while I rot away as the seconds fly by.
