I sit here with this blank screen and this blinking mouse, hoping that something will come to my fingers. Beautiful words come not through my head to my hands but straight to my hands. There exists something in this world to compell my fingers to move across this board to spit some ill words but spit they do not. Instead they speak but speak not in English but in some other language. Some cryptic, slang language that flows like water. The fingers dont stop moving and my brain never seizes to process. I will keep writing as long as my mind is racing. Im alone and confused but dont tell him goodbye. Oh shit. The fingers stopped for a sec.

There is nothing I can do
that I can do to move you
it seems like even if i try
and i do
that you dont have a clue
like I am invisible to you
She says "i will call you tomorrow"
but does she call?
Hell No
why?
Because it is me
nobody cares about me
like i dont exist
and i am getiting pissed
i deserve to exist
am i that lousy
shit even this crap is lousy
i just need to keep typing to
satisfy my mental block
get thes words out
as if i was laying my mind uout
on paper for all to read
make sense or not
i deserve to exist
and i deserve to write
because right now that is all i have
these keys
and this screen
run away bitch
dont call me back
i wont call you
because i am a pussy
there is nothing i can do
nothing to do
you wont budge

i think i am going to make this journal for me and my thoughts only
private thoughts for my private eyes
i will update for me and write for me
not to worry about others
what they think or say
will have no effect on my words
or these keys or this screen
shit this is Brian
I am somebody
I just need to ball up
and quit pitying myself
take a deep breath and jump
it cant be that cold
really

Episode one

I am going to introduce my characters:
1. Frank is a little man. He skitters about, gathering pinecones in parking lots. I remember the first time I saw Frank. He was in the parking lot across from where I work. He had a white plastic bag full of them. He only picks up the dry ones though, the open ones. Frank lives alone in a tidy one bedroom apartment with a fireplace. He made sure to get one with a fireplace. He loves his brick fireplace. He has few friends and no family but is content.

2. Fred is large and slow. He thinks about everything. I work with Fred at the golf course in Greybluff. I always see him, so quiet. One day he will say something big. Something that is going to change the world. But he must be careful not to speak too soon.

3. Amy is playful and fun. I remember when i first met her, she was surrounded by a thousand girls and boys, all entranced by whatever she was saying. Amy is not too bright though. She goes in and out with trends and up and down depending on her social acceptance. Everyone likes Amy but she is sad.

4. George has issues. He loves to play poker but usually loses. He has friends, good friends who, without him knowing, take george's money. They sneak in to his car where he keeps his quarters and take eight at a time. George is happy. George sits at home, thinking about where his life will take him, what he will do, where he will go, and when.

5. My last character is the baseline. She is the norm, the average. All others are defined by what she does. She is the one who strives for the C, the one who goes out of her way to not be noticed. She sticks to earth tones, greys and tans. There is no need to name her because she blends right in, she is urban camo.

This is the account of 5 separate people connected by one common thing. They live separate lives, in separate places, with separate people. One would not know that the other exists but yet they do. They do in amazing harmony.