I don't really know

Chapter two

Death covers all. Life consumes all. Birth provides all. This is not profound; it is simple yet nothing is simple anymore. Humans urge to analyse. What was he thinking, saying, doing? All mankind asks the same questions and each question is unanswerable. This is what keeps them going. Without these questions they are but hairless apes.  Confusion grips a hollowed soul.  As a rotten bench crackling on a fire, all its’ use forgotten.  A man is nothing when lost amid his own thoughts but through that, he is everything. A life without thinking, analysing, wondering, is one that would destroy any man, slowly creeping under his skin and hollowing out his very nature from within him until he wandered the world, a man removed of his manhood.

The dew on the grass had been drawn into perfectly symmetrical patterns by the frigid breeze and the many wanderings of humankind over its moistened surface. The street, deserted but for a few boys trying to play football at the far end, had taken up an air of foreboding as if each lamppost dared the inhabitants of the houses to come out and face the chilling wind. I looked out from my window. How is it, I thought, that when you ask a teenager to get up for school you may as well be talking to a wall but when you ask them to play a sport they’re up like a rocket?  The mysteries of human existence still confound me. I continued to look out the window upon the deserted street and wondered if it would be worth going out to collect the newspaper. I could see it, lying there at the end of my driveway, a soggy messy teasing, tantalising me to venture forth and collect it. I decided to at least journey downstairs and grab some breakfast. The bloodstains of last night having been covered up I finally managed to get the toaster to actually toast my pop-tart before I had to head out to school. I bit into my toasted treat and immediately collapsed in pleasure. The chocolaty liquid twisted around my taste buds and the crunchy underbelly had just the right consistency. It was beautiful. One moment of pure ecstasy is what is needed to start off a day. One pop-tart.
School buses must have an in-built system that can see whether you are at the bus-stop already or not. If you’re there, the bus driver makes sure he leaves you out in icy temperatures for at least twenty minutes before he picks you up. If you’re not there, they speed past so you have to sprint to catch up with the bus and get on. Those are always the days that you forget your bus pass.
The bus ride to school can be my favourite part of the day, or it can be the worst. I spend most of the time looking out of the window, just thinking. Some days I think about school and all the work that I didn’t do the night before and other days I just think in general. Many times I think about how many people there are in the world, each with their own thoughts and dreams and each as confused as I. It astounds me. I shall never understand how there can be some many different people, so many thoughts and so many disagreements, yet we all seem to make it so simple. We focus on ourselves, on what we’re going to do today, on who we’ll talk to today. Maybe that’s the only way we can cope with it. We can’t handle the thought of all of the other people in the world, because just our own lives confuse us. Imagine trying to deal with all of it. Other days on the bus I think about colours. Those are the good days.