I'm not good with words. That's a fact. It's just how it is.
How am I dealing with what happened? I didn't know him. I knew of him, but personally, I didn't know him. I'm not like the other people, who are crying, and leaving school.
I want to comfort people who are crying. I want to try to help them. I wanted to go to the room where they were all gathering today. But I didn't know him. I had no place there. I don't feel like I have the right to be with people who are crying. I didn't know him.
Even so, I'm sad. A thoughtful kind of sad.
I didn't move today, after the news came. I sat, attempted to sort out my thoughts, and observed things around me. Some people went of crying, being escorted by teachers and comforted by friends. Some just got up and went on with their life, not being affected by this. Why do I feel like I'm somewhere in between that? Do I have any right to feel like this?
The first thing I wanted to do was go play music. Play for him for the people he left behind...for everything and everybody. But I knew that I couldn't. I can't just sit down and play something. Not like some. My piano's not nearly up to par with anything that would be good enough for him, or anybody else in this situation. Same with bassoon really. Besides, I have no pieces for times like this.
And so I attempted to write during my spare. That came to almost nothing. Words are slightly important when writing, and we've already agreed that I'm no good when it comes to words.
So instead I suppose I shall continue to observe, and keep my thoughts to myself. Sometimes that's the best thing to do with my thoughts.
School has held a strange cage-like feeling today. I can't wait to get out, eat pizza, and forget my life by surrounding myself with an open stage, a listening audience, and all the other aspects of a regular concert.
"What should I make outta wood?"
1 week ago