looking for the patterns in static

walking through the wet leaves in the dark reminded me of my first semester. last fall, when i was confused and heart broken... when i didnt believe in sleep; instead i walked around observing the muddy leaves on the ground late at night or early in the morning, whatever you want to consider 2 a.m.... just pondering life and why it was so crazy. it was pretty crazy then. i still hadn't adjusted to the changes. i went to parties and sat in one spot hoping no one would notice me or my illegal cup of coconut rum and coca-cola. i lied to a lot of people about a lot of things then. i wasnt interested in intelligent or even unintelligent conversation from anyone... i just liked watching and listening... making observations. i wanted to write a book about all of the girls that ran around with cell phones stuck to their pretty faces and bottles of beer stuck in their pretty little hands. i wanted the world to know what i thought of those girls. i felt sorry for them. i thought it was sad how they assumed they had to be at those parties, wearing revealing dresses and too much perfume. i always wished for one of them to fall over in those unnecessarily tall heels. i wanted them to feel pain.