Here is a monlogue that I did for Writing 100, I've been busy, sorry I haven't been updating.

Today I got to class and I sat in the wrong chair. The actual chair itself was fine I guess, but the place it was in was all wrong. I was in the second row. How could I have sat down in the second row, how, I didn’t want to be a second row person, I didn’t want a row of chairs keeping me comfortably hidden amongst everyone else. I didn’t, I wanted to make it very clear; “I am a front row person!”

But once I sat down...once I sat down I couldn’t move, I realized that I couldn’t change seats, the class had started and I was stuck. I was stuck, and for the next fifty minutes I was just an average second row person and no matter what I did, I could not change that.

So I sat. And I sat. And I sat and I sat and I got bored. So I started to play games in my head. I started to annoy the girl next to me, to get her flustered. I started to draw, to write, to do anything to distract myself from how slowly, ever so slowly time was passing. I always think it’s funny when I hear people say life is short. Life is not short, life is very very long.

Anyway, I was still in the second row, the professor was still talking, and I was thinking about just why I was there. Why didn’t I sit in the front row? I wanted to, and no one had told me I couldn’t. Was I scared of something? What was there to be scared of? Did it even matter; is the front row even that much better? Really the biggest thing that bothered me was that no one else sat in the front row either. Were they afraid? Afraid of what, of being different, of breaking some unspoken rule? Maybe that’s just the way they are, maybe none of us are front row people, maybe no one in the world is. Do you think that’s because front row people haven’t been invented yet, or because they’ve gone extinct?

Either way, I think it’s very strange that no one sat in the front. I think I must’ve been right when I said they were afraid. People’s problems are usually caused by being too afraid to do whatever they want. It’s like they want to be different and special but at the same time they don’t want to stand out. But don’t they know that’s what it means to be different and special? I used to think it was a very scary thing to be wrong. But the more I lived, the more I could see that it didn’t matter if other people thought I was strange, or if they didn’t like the things I made. And I sat in the second row, and I thought about that, and I thought about how I could know this, how I could already know this for so long, and how I could still have sat down in the second row.

I know it was me now. I know it was me all along, and it was even me who decided that the rows mattered in the first place. Life is very tricky, it makes you think you’re not in control, and it does this for so long that eventually you end up not trying any more. You shouldn’t though, you shouldn’t let life get the best of you. This is very important, please remember not to let life get the best of you and please remember that even though sometimes it seems like you’re not in control, you always are, and even the things that you can’t stop, you can change what they mean in your head. I really hope that I don’t sound like a crazy person right now.

It’s okay if you don’t really understand me. I believe that very few people really understand each other. Sometimes it seems to me that I’m totally different from everyone else, that I’m not even wearing the same kind of skin as them.