Exercise
I love to write. If painters have their canvas, I have my paper & my pen & my words.
So... here's another exercise in writing, part fiction and part non-fiction.
She got in step with him as they walked away from the building. He walked with a steady, almost lumbering pace and beside him, she took quick steps. In spite of her shorter legs, she was able to keep up with him just fine.
She supposed she shouldn't bother him, but at the same time she knew that caring came a part of the friendship territory. He didn't look any different, didn't act in such a manner that deviated from his normal self, but she could juuuust tell that something was off. That something wasn't right. While in motion, she maneuvered herself to get closer to him and bumped his shoulder with hers.
"Hey," she said when he looked up, the characteristic drowse still in his gaze and the curious lift of his eyebrows still present. "What's up? Are you ok?"
He took a breath and looked away. In the span of a single breath, he remembered everything that happened to him that day. Some self-absorbed driver cut him off on his way to school. He saw the girl he had hoped to go on a date with completely ignore him (something about some Facebook drama or so and "You're so insensitive!"). The test he got back could've definitely been better and by the way, how was he going to identify his unknown in lab when he got no derivatives during synthesis? He broke a test tube and cut his finger, the minor vulnerability making him slightly paranoid that he had just introduced carcinogenic substances in his closed circulatory system...
Good lord. And the week was far from over. But, he supposed, they were just part of typical college student angst. Every college student has them and today, he felt them more acutely than normal. That's all. He took another breath and looked up at her.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Just exploring an observation I have of people. Here's my deep thought of the day: there are only 3 ways how I can get to know people - what I observe when I interact with them, how those people describe themselves to me, & what I'm told by others. There's always a filter and it's quite saddening that I will never know anyone as well as I hope I would get to.
I suppose that's only the right place to be at. I wouldn't want to be too vulnerable. Everyone's entitled to their own secrets: I'd rather not know what anyone else is really thinking and I'd deny them the same.
...I need sleep now.
So... here's another exercise in writing, part fiction and part non-fiction.
She got in step with him as they walked away from the building. He walked with a steady, almost lumbering pace and beside him, she took quick steps. In spite of her shorter legs, she was able to keep up with him just fine.
She supposed she shouldn't bother him, but at the same time she knew that caring came a part of the friendship territory. He didn't look any different, didn't act in such a manner that deviated from his normal self, but she could juuuust tell that something was off. That something wasn't right. While in motion, she maneuvered herself to get closer to him and bumped his shoulder with hers.
"Hey," she said when he looked up, the characteristic drowse still in his gaze and the curious lift of his eyebrows still present. "What's up? Are you ok?"
He took a breath and looked away. In the span of a single breath, he remembered everything that happened to him that day. Some self-absorbed driver cut him off on his way to school. He saw the girl he had hoped to go on a date with completely ignore him (something about some Facebook drama or so and "You're so insensitive!"). The test he got back could've definitely been better and by the way, how was he going to identify his unknown in lab when he got no derivatives during synthesis? He broke a test tube and cut his finger, the minor vulnerability making him slightly paranoid that he had just introduced carcinogenic substances in his closed circulatory system...
Good lord. And the week was far from over. But, he supposed, they were just part of typical college student angst. Every college student has them and today, he felt them more acutely than normal. That's all. He took another breath and looked up at her.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Just exploring an observation I have of people. Here's my deep thought of the day: there are only 3 ways how I can get to know people - what I observe when I interact with them, how those people describe themselves to me, & what I'm told by others. There's always a filter and it's quite saddening that I will never know anyone as well as I hope I would get to.
I suppose that's only the right place to be at. I wouldn't want to be too vulnerable. Everyone's entitled to their own secrets: I'd rather not know what anyone else is really thinking and I'd deny them the same.
...I need sleep now.