It's just me expressing my feelings, please tell me what you think.

Essay by kuzaHigh School, 10th grade December 2003

download word file, 1 pages 3.0 1 reviews

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You walk out onto the street. You're mad. But what are you mad at? Is it your family, your friends, or the whole world? You don't know. It's cold and you start to feel the air pour into your unzipped coat. You pass a homeless guy, he's been asking for change for a year, on the same corner, at the same time, every day. Or maybe, you just pass by that same spot every time, every day. You look down. You avoid eye contact. Why? He's just a drunk. He wastes his money on booze, but you're ashamed. You're ten times the man he is. Or are you? You're cold again. The wind keeps blowing under your loose coat. You keep walking. Again a gust of wind. Why is it so windy today? Out of all the days you would pick to storm out of the house, today is the got to be the coldest one this year.

Is it really that cold? Or is it your fiery body, which went from hot to cold, too fast. You stop. The light is red. It tells you "Stop!" And yet you go. You see a window. As you pass by, you hear an argument. You have it good. You have it made. It's not enough. Another light. Another stop. Again you go. A loud screech. A loud thump. The striking pain. The fading lights. The pitch black gloom. You see the light. But, are you dead. The pain tells you "Not yet." You hear the news. You are alive, but she is not. Why do we fight? Why do we rot, and decompose the way we feel, and we suppose that when you say what you contain you end up dead, it is not true, it's just a fad? A...