Writer's Block
I wrote something last night that I'm afraid is a bit too depressing to share, so I thought I'd post this instead. It's not really a statement or anything, it's just something that I'm hoping helps break my writer's block.
He grew up well. Not well off, though certainly not poor, just well in general. Sure, he never had any real close friends. He moved too much for those (though in hindsight, that wasn't true). He didn't see much point in friends because they were temporary (again, in hindsight, untrue). He had a happy childhood overall, tinged with moments of loss and sadness, just like everyone else.
He moved during fifth grade. His new location was decent if not too hot, but the people were different. He was picked on for being too smart and putting too much effort into school. He was picked on for not being from the same small town in which he now resided. It was here where he learned to perform, though - the one thing that may define who he actually is. He learned to put on a smile and pretend that everything was fine because he didn't have anywhere to go to say that it wasn't. Parents had more than enough on their minds to deal with. Again, friends were non-existent at this point. Time to shine. Keep on going.
The loss during his freshman year of high school was immense. The loss of security, the loss of life, the loss of yet another move. When he arrived at his new destination he swore to himself he would do everything he could not to be hurt like that again, so for the first year, he did everything he could to push everyone away. It was safe. It was comfortable. It wasn't happy, but he'd almost forgotten what that was anyway. He did a good job. Perhaps too good a job. But it got him through.
His second year in his "new" home, he started making some acquaintances, even a couple friends. He would eventually lose touch with them, but he didn't really expect any less. It was here that he started to be an angry young man, filled with righteous indignation and frustration. Not with his own life but with how others were treated. He tried to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders - first just some general frustrations, then broken hopes, dreams, hearts, lives, souls. It all weighed him down too much. He broke. He wouldn't show it, but he broke. He made some of the best friends he's ever had that year...he lost them a year later. That's life sometimes. They've all gone their separate ways, they're all different people.
He grew up well. Not well off, though certainly not poor, just well in general. Sure, he never had any real close friends. He moved too much for those (though in hindsight, that wasn't true). He didn't see much point in friends because they were temporary (again, in hindsight, untrue). He had a happy childhood overall, tinged with moments of loss and sadness, just like everyone else.
He moved during fifth grade. His new location was decent if not too hot, but the people were different. He was picked on for being too smart and putting too much effort into school. He was picked on for not being from the same small town in which he now resided. It was here where he learned to perform, though - the one thing that may define who he actually is. He learned to put on a smile and pretend that everything was fine because he didn't have anywhere to go to say that it wasn't. Parents had more than enough on their minds to deal with. Again, friends were non-existent at this point. Time to shine. Keep on going.
The loss during his freshman year of high school was immense. The loss of security, the loss of life, the loss of yet another move. When he arrived at his new destination he swore to himself he would do everything he could not to be hurt like that again, so for the first year, he did everything he could to push everyone away. It was safe. It was comfortable. It wasn't happy, but he'd almost forgotten what that was anyway. He did a good job. Perhaps too good a job. But it got him through.
His second year in his "new" home, he started making some acquaintances, even a couple friends. He would eventually lose touch with them, but he didn't really expect any less. It was here that he started to be an angry young man, filled with righteous indignation and frustration. Not with his own life but with how others were treated. He tried to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders - first just some general frustrations, then broken hopes, dreams, hearts, lives, souls. It all weighed him down too much. He broke. He wouldn't show it, but he broke. He made some of the best friends he's ever had that year...he lost them a year later. That's life sometimes. They've all gone their separate ways, they're all different people.