I FUCKING FOUND IT!!!
There was a child. Most others saw him as nothing, he had few friends, none of which were well liked either. Contempt without having done anything, perhaps because he wasn't purebred WASP like the other kids, maybe his accent. Maybe no real reason at all.
There was a boy who fought almost everyday, for himself, for his few friends. As time went on it drove him too far. He would beat another bloody for just saying hello to him. Always suspecting behind any smile was some horrible trick or word waiting for him. He was always in trouble, though he usually didn't start any.
The was an adolescent who was mad. At the world and in his mind. He hated everyone who wasn't his friend, burning to hurt and maim. His days were spent either with a friend or alone. His nights spent by himself, lifting weights and punching cinder block walls to Ministry, GNR, and Megadeth. Hate, hate, cold and hate.
A sophmore, who took down seniors twice his size in phys-ed, not caring how big someone was. All the others were soft to him. They felt pain, they could be hurt. He was stone, when winter came with blizzards stronger than any in years he walked out to lunch in sleevless shirts without a coat. His face was expressionless but he laughed at how others shivered, wrapped in thick jackets. He wasn't heartless though. If a girl was short on money for lunch he would lend her some. Before the end of the year the school kicked him out after a dubious psychological test.
A senior, returned from reform school but with no belief that any college would take him now. He began to thaw a little, but not in time, he met a wonderful girl when his blood was still cold and missed his chance. He scraped by in everything but phys-ed, where he went to the weight room everyday. There most went to lounge around, and girls went to watch the guys. They watched him too, but as a freak. He didn't rest or stop, he was only 145 lbs. but stronger than he had any right to be. Sometimes he would spend the whole class doing endless sets of push-ups on his fingers, never slacking no matter how badly his body became exhausted or his muscles burned. He ate the pain and asked for more.
He spent the prom night putting an exhaust on a Chevelle. He spent graduation night driving alone while everyone else celebrated.
Some time later, after walking out on a mindless labor job and finally giving community college a real shot, he sees how much he's missed. He doesn't hate the people he went to school with anymore, atleast not like he once did. A little jealous perhaps. He never had a girl to love, and his best friend since he was 4 years old no longer speaks to him. But he sees through things, and people, which most cannot. He can stand without need of allies.
In the long run pain can bring strength. A sword cannot be strong without first being beaten and tempered. Sometimes he wonders if others would have traded all the parties and young love and good times for his strength, his spirit. Afterall, they planted the seeds for it.
- Fury440III@anti-social.com
There was a boy who fought almost everyday, for himself, for his few friends. As time went on it drove him too far. He would beat another bloody for just saying hello to him. Always suspecting behind any smile was some horrible trick or word waiting for him. He was always in trouble, though he usually didn't start any.
The was an adolescent who was mad. At the world and in his mind. He hated everyone who wasn't his friend, burning to hurt and maim. His days were spent either with a friend or alone. His nights spent by himself, lifting weights and punching cinder block walls to Ministry, GNR, and Megadeth. Hate, hate, cold and hate.
A sophmore, who took down seniors twice his size in phys-ed, not caring how big someone was. All the others were soft to him. They felt pain, they could be hurt. He was stone, when winter came with blizzards stronger than any in years he walked out to lunch in sleevless shirts without a coat. His face was expressionless but he laughed at how others shivered, wrapped in thick jackets. He wasn't heartless though. If a girl was short on money for lunch he would lend her some. Before the end of the year the school kicked him out after a dubious psychological test.
A senior, returned from reform school but with no belief that any college would take him now. He began to thaw a little, but not in time, he met a wonderful girl when his blood was still cold and missed his chance. He scraped by in everything but phys-ed, where he went to the weight room everyday. There most went to lounge around, and girls went to watch the guys. They watched him too, but as a freak. He didn't rest or stop, he was only 145 lbs. but stronger than he had any right to be. Sometimes he would spend the whole class doing endless sets of push-ups on his fingers, never slacking no matter how badly his body became exhausted or his muscles burned. He ate the pain and asked for more.
He spent the prom night putting an exhaust on a Chevelle. He spent graduation night driving alone while everyone else celebrated.
Some time later, after walking out on a mindless labor job and finally giving community college a real shot, he sees how much he's missed. He doesn't hate the people he went to school with anymore, atleast not like he once did. A little jealous perhaps. He never had a girl to love, and his best friend since he was 4 years old no longer speaks to him. But he sees through things, and people, which most cannot. He can stand without need of allies.
In the long run pain can bring strength. A sword cannot be strong without first being beaten and tempered. Sometimes he wonders if others would have traded all the parties and young love and good times for his strength, his spirit. Afterall, they planted the seeds for it.
- Fury440III@anti-social.com