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Blind

They say you shouldn’t make decisions when you’re angry. Apparently because all the hurt and madness clogs up your vision and messes with your head, causing you to do something you might regret. Well, what the f***? What if my true feelings and desires are revealed when I’m pissed off? When I’m hurt, my raw emotions are on the surface for once. I hate it, but it makes me feel real. So I should just wait for them to subside?

They say when I’m not angry I make logical decisions based on clarity and reason and order. F*** that. Logic has too many loopholes if you ask me. Reason and order are concepts made up by a**holes who lost control one too many times and f***ed something up big time. I am these feelings I bury away, I can feel it exploding in me. So when they come out I’m just supposed to ignore them and wait until my body is anatomically calmed down? Hell no.

I was angry when I left. If I had waited til morning, I would have most definitely thought the idea of leaving absurd. But I threw it all away. I acted on my impulse and rage. Escaped through the back door with nothing but my word and history. And my i-pod. I always need my i-pod.

Now it’s 3 am on a cold February evening. I’m just walking. Just walking.

Why I left though - that’s a whole other story. I’m sixteen years old. Named Kevin at birth. One could characterize me as the typical spoiled rich kid in the suburbs of California. I attend the best public high school in the state. My family pays the bills and can afford luxuries. They shower me with love and affection and any material object my precious heart desires. My parents are oblivious to all my teenage adventures, and I have it all, right? But like I said, why I left is a whole other story.

It’s very different in reality, as things often are. Running away from home, I mean. You expect to crash at a friend’s house, or have the random beautiful girl notice you and let you stay for as long as you wish. However, all my friends live across town, and my female savior took the form of a rectangular i-pod.

Instead, it’s just you, the road, and the sky. The voice in my headphones tell me to look up at the stars and find myself. I try it. The sky is black. I can’t see anything. I feel exposed and worthless. The tears threaten again and I swallow them. My throat feels black. I keep my eyes on the road, but I can’t see any more than a few feet ahead, and that scares me. I suddenly wish I had a flashlight. But wait, what good would that too? I’d see a little further, but not enough. Never enough. Might as well be blind.



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