Lonely, lonely, lonely.

It’s a chilly feeling. Your stomach feels like an ice storm.

After you finish the mini load of homework, you putt around your bedroom, straightening this, admiring that. There is no way you could go outside and immerse yourself in the charm that is the world because it is raining.

Wet, wet, wet. Lonely, lonely, lonely.

You mull over your options.

How about I read that nice magazine I’ve been saving?

The magazine has articles and photographs to entice your thoughts. You find a delicious looking recipe with sausage (juicy), broccoli (crunchy), sauce (creamy), and pasta (chewy). You flip through the rest and set it on your dresser, suddenly starved.

In the kitchen however, there is nothing worth your time. For lunch you had a peanut butter sandwich. After school you mindlessly munched peanut butter crackers. In the cabinet, your options are Cream of Wheat, peanut butter crackers, and high protein cereal.

Back in your room again, you sigh. It is only three forty-five.
Where is your life?
Firing up your laptop, you wonder if the boy from leadership camp remembered you and accepted your friend request, if your best friend e-mailed you, or you could find a way to make mascara not clump.
When all of these prove to be trivial, you open a blank document.
This is your life.
Lonely, lonely, lonely.
Wet, wet, wet.
Write. Write. Write.