The Blank Page

The bell rings, as the clock strikes by the hour change. I am running, I feel like a blur passing through the crowd. They never seem to notice, but I never try to fit with them anyway. I guess that’s because I always try to be myself, you know… both of them. I kinda keep my selves company since I was usually alone wherever I am. I'm sociable with many friends but there’s just a few I trust. I am the black sheep of my family because when it comes to choose a side I'm a mix of both but either way they are my family. I just hope that one day I’ll be with that person who will love me for who I am as I will love her. But to others I’m just the crazy loner, and yet I’m actually proud of myself for that. I try my best but this crap keeps happening. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s just something I can’t control. As I reach the classroom I stop and take a deep breath. I do a light check of what’s happening and I try to sneak my way inside. Everybody else notices me and laugh. So, I just walk to my seat and place my bag as usual while the teacher turns around from the board saying -“Well… Ed, glad you could join us.”

So, I just sighed. I took my seat and laid there while class was in session. I was bored watching the clock as it went: tick… tock… tick… tock… tick… tock… and all of the sudden I receive a white piece of paper. I knew this was going to be trouble. We all looked at our teacher while talking and explaining this assignment -“Alright class, I want you to share with the class one memory, just one memory of whatever you want. But that is someway school related, this is a way for you guys to open up as a group and learn about your fellow classmates.” I was screwed. I’m the socially awkward nerd at our class, the lowest student of high school and trying to figure out which story I could tell was just a mental jam. What should I write? It was like a computer within a virus. I just didn’t know. What could I share? It was like a television without a signal. The questions in my head were many but the answers were just a few. I was thinking random memories of my life, some good and some bad. Should it be about love? Should it be about hate? Should it be about help for others? Should it be about my suffering? As you can tell, I was over thinking this simple assignment. It was as clear as glass.

I saw how the other students didn’t care; they were just going to tell a bogus story for the work points while I actually liked the assignment and wanted to do something with this opportunity. But even though I can improvise, I felt stuck. The other students started sharing their stories, it was like I expected and made me think. I always have ideas, but usually nobody cares about them so I don’t tend to share them with the public. I know about my personal flaws, I focus on controlling myself for the ones I care about and avoid being a burden to them. So when it comes to the public I would carefully cut loose, that’s why I don’t care and yet this assignment has got me feeling glitchy. It was my turn, and yet my mind was as blank as my paper. I was thinking so much of what to do, that I didn’t do literally anything. I sighed as I got out of my chair and went to the board. Everybody was looking at me but I didn’t feel nervous, I was just still arguing at my mind with myself about for what could I do. It’s not the public that always worries me, instead is my own self. I said to myself fuck it. So, I improvised. I made a story on the spot. It was a worthy story by my limits, but I keep trying to control myself. A cause to keep a balance of personalities with the effects of mental issues. Like the blank page; I could be anything I want. While sides argue by anything, emotional instinct or thoughtful planning, I need to be careful not to crumble myself by errors and just use my 2 sides. I guess this is a way to say that I didn’t know what to think, write and post. And I share a story with you that feels like watching me through glass.

By
“Weird Ed” Vazquez