| |
|
I sit at my computer, using a math tutorial program, hoping that it'll
improve my geo grade. At times, the monotone female voice gets to me, but
not too often. After a couple of problems, I get up, stretch my arms, legs
and back. I know it's not good for me, but I'll get around to stopping.
Looking around my room, I see my radio-alarm clock; it' s 7:23.
Searching for something to relieve my boredom, I stumble upon my Magic
deck. I decide to sit down and see if I can improve it a bit. Sorting my
deck, I am reminded of a friend, Megan, always poking me and urging me to
return to the real world. I love her for trying, and I will, for her sake,
seeing as though she'll be leaving for Germany for a year.
Disappointed in myself, I drop the cards and start to wander about my
room. On my desk, I find my elementary school class pictures. One face
sticks out the more than the others, Tom, or Tommo, as I occasionally call
him, now a good friend of 6 years. Looking at us like that, my mind
wanders to the many joyful days on the playground, and now to the modern
day, where people find us strange when I slap the back of his head for
saying something stupid.
Full of old memories, I pick up my middle school yearbook, and flipping
through the pages, I see two of my oldest and best friends of the opposite
sex, Julley and Shirley. Going over these pictures revokes old
predicaments that we faced, some significant, others not. Skip ahead 3
years from when we met; this afternoon, Shirley's telling me what
friendship and the kind of bond we share, means to her.
Getting a little tired of reminiscing, I proceed to the bathroom and
decide to examine myself in the mirror.
What was the point of writing this, you ask? You tell me. Was this a
complete waste of your time? Maybe.
Tell me, when you look in the mirror, what do you see? Me? I see a lost
little boy, searching for the path through this journey called life. He
frantically searches for the path to find himself. Having a guide would
help a bit, but would never compare to having companions. After all,
travel is only as good as the friends you travel with.
|
|