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Once upon a time...Once upon a time, there was this wizard. He lived 600 feet under and his only friends were little penguins and moles. He loved to use his magic, but he had no one to show it to. The magic was the most amazing and extraordinary thing you could ever see. He set fireworks from his eyes and pull the stars below the surface just by a movement of his hand. The penguins watched him every night do his tricks. He got tired of showing the same people the same thing. The wizard had never been above the surface, banned from it as a kid and never knowing the sights above it. He decided to surface after a long time of thinking. When he arrived at the ground level, everyone stared at him. He got dirty looks, but not knowing it, he just smiled at them and waved. They became even more annoyed and glared more. Someone finally said, "Hey, freak, why don't you go back to the circus?" He stopped to think about this for a while, while they laughed at him. He realized, then, that it was a cruel insult and he
lettersyou're impossible to please,
i'm always trying to close the fights with ease.
you come firing right back at me,
like a f♦♦king boomerang.
have fun playing your petty games,
but how dare you show yourself here.
you clearly didn't learn
when i shut this situation down.
i feel i'm losing you,
more and more by the second.
what happened to the once close friendship we shared?
we would laugh and play; not a care in the
Nine TimesI saw him nine times.
The first time we were both sitting in the room together, getting ready to take the math test that would determine our placement. I was scatterbrained and throwing things around, trying to find the pencils that I had known I would need but had still just tossed in my purse. He was lounging backwards in his chair, looking for all the world as though he didn’t have a single care in the world, including the upcoming test. It annoyed me, that I was frantic and ready to scream, while someone else could be that relaxed.
I tested out of the class.
I don’t know if he did.
The second time I saw him, it was a few months after I arrived on campus. He was the one rushing and frantic this time, running across the square. He was probably late for class, though I had no way of knowing for sure. I was already lost in my own thoughts and ideas, deciding on my major and convincing people that yes, this is what I really want to do with my life. If they weren
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