depressing page

What is life anyway? I mean, who is to say what we are "supposed to do"? If life

were weighed by the amount of fun you have or the number of girlfriends you've crushed,

then I am a feather weight. On the other hand, if life truly is measured in the end by the

number of good deeds you've completed or how much you have given up for the sake of

another human being, well then maybe I have something to live for. By comparison, if

you took your typical, average teenager's life and compared it to mine, then I would have
to be a loser or nerd or geek. Yet if we are going to stereotype by names such as these, I
would have to: A) Be on the computer learning 24/7, or B) Never had a girlfriend or

people to hang out with. I play two sports a year, followed by summer camps and jobs. I

have more acquaintances than most people could claim to have, yet I have no one to

really hang out with all the time. I'm almost always left out of something, whether it be

dinner after a game, or a party, or even the mall with a group. I doubt if I'll ever have

another girlfriend simply because I'm scared shitless of rejection and failure, so I can't

ask. I have failed in life. People say that you should always come out of a situation

having gained something. Let me tell you, if that held true for me, I wouldn't be writing

this. I have so many people who call themselves my friends, yet I am always left alone.

Just say I happened to die (I am not suicidal, any more, any how): Do you know how

many of my "friends" would come to a funeral? Maybe six. How many days would I go

unnoticed; that is, how many days would I be dead before one of these "friends" noticed

that I wasn't in school or heard from for a while? Probably close to a week if not longer.

And this is not a simple plea for your sympathy; no, it is my autobiography. This is the

story of a teen who just wanted to feel accepted and appreciated by more than his

parents, which in fact doesn't even happen much. I just finally felt the need to let more

than myself know how it is to be a LOSER; an OUTCAST; a WRETCH. Many people

feel depression for a day after the loss of a girlfriend or after the death of a family

member. I have lived with it since I realized the truth of my life: it is worthless. You may

think to yourself that I am just being funny or circumstantial, but I am sorry to say that I am

not. I am going to tell you the story of my life in the following pages; a story of rejection,

failure, and misery. Lets see. The first time I realized that I was different in popularity was
around fourth grade. People aren't even supposed to have lives then, yet when a party

came around or crushes were held, they didn't involve me. Grade school sucked. If you

were to compare it to the vast varieties of flowers and plant life, it would be a Venus fly

trap --- it sucks the life out of its victim. I lived near no one from that school. The closest

person that I could deal with was more than a half hour walk away. DAMN. I made the

basketball team, but then never played because the coach and my dad were to say, not

friends. I went to school, went to practice, went home and ate. Nothing ever changed,

and I would never get a phone call unless it was from a dumbass looking for a homework
assignment. I graduated from that hell-hole amongst a mob of sobbing pre-teens. They

cried, I smirked. ONE HELL DOWN, LIFE TO GO. I wonder, will I always be alienated?

Am I to wonder around for the rest of this life with no where to go?

And here it is folks, high school. And it is everything I expected it not to be. No

new friends; no new hobbies; Only one thing stands out as a star in the ever looming

darkness of my life ... my girlfriend Mary. She is so much to me, and as a tribute to the

light in my abyss, here is a page just for her .........