6. Eyes
Ever since I could remember, I could tell what people were focused on. There was this certain... aura that I could sense. If someone was reading a book or a piece of music, I could tell where they were. Perhaps said person was bored and tried to fake these actions; I would know where their thoughts laid.
Things can get more complicated when you're older and you have this ability. This is especially true when talking to the opposite gender. For example, this is what happened today:
"Hey, Sabrina," one if my guy friend greets. His eyes are focused on mine.
"Hey, Jack. What's up?" And... Then his focus seems to wander around every other part of me except for my eyes. I can feel his awareness of my presence around him.
"Well, you see-"
"Why the hell are you checking me out?" I ask bluntly, truly curious.
"Well- wait, what?" He asks with a mixture of shock, embarrassment, and suspicion.
"I said: Why. Are. You. Checking. Me. Out," making myself clear.
"I am not checking you ou-" Jack tried to protest, but without any success.
"Then explain to me why you were paying attention to everything except for my eyes?" He starts to do exactly what I had been explaining to him again,"My eyes. Are up here."
And so that is what happened today. A similar conversation occurred with the vice principal, too, and let me tell you. Gurrl, he is cray cray.
Some people are confused with why I do not like crowded spaces. There's too much to focus on, too much for my brain to comprehend.
A good question to ask myself is this: what is MY focus on? I've never had an answer to this question. My mind sort of... Wanders, if you will. It swims with thoughts, aware of everything. Which is why I endure many, many headaches. Even when I'm sleeping, I don't really have a focus, and I don't dream.
Sleep.
That word sounds great at the moment. After my long, unfocused thoughts that wander around aimlessly through my head, I lie down on my oh-so-comfortable bed. I pass out immediately.
Morning.
The beginning of the day, the ending of the night; a part in the never-ending cycle of every year. Sometimes it's sunny out with a cool breeze. Sometimes the air is so musty, so damp that I can't breathe, and it's like I'm drowning in water vapor whilst walking. When it's like that in the morning, it almost always rains in the afternoon.
Weather.
The unpredictable, uncontrollable thing that people think they can 'predict' and 'control'. Weather is sort of like people. Sure, one can understand what has happened after it's now in the past, but you cannot predict anything that will happen.
Periwinkle.
Did you expect that? Most likely not.
School is nice, but the majority of my classmates are focused on the time, the window, or some other thing that is not what the teacher is writing on the board. Oh, the teacher drops her chalk and instead of focusing on the chalk, she looks around to check if anyone saw her mess up. It's only me. But am I actually focused?
This entire time, I haven't been listening to anything except for my own mind. I've been deceiving myself. Focus doesn't need to be on a physical thing, does it? Focus. I'm just being a self-centered bitch, aren't I? Only thinking for myself. Focus. All of my thoughts have nothing to do with anything important. Focus. I'm focusing on focusing. Focus. It's not working. Focus.
A/N
Hey guys, if you noticed that in the beginning, my writing was a little 'outgoing' (haha who am I kidding?) and the second half was more poetic, it's just because I wrote this at two different times and I'm currently in a poetic mood. I'm also absolutely shit at writing endings, so that's a little explanation for that last paragraph.
Unicorn Powers!!!
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