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Not knowing, that was the problem. Not seeing wasn't so bad, but not knowing, well that was beyond my patience's reach. Like if you were a pretty good swimmer, but not amazing, and someone asks you to swim just a little bit over what you can manage. That's what it was like. Except maybe it was worse. I couldn't believe I couldn't see this coming. It was so blindingly obvious. As I thought about this, my two little (well actually in this case abnormally big) friends came pounding down on to my shoulders. Of course me. Responsibility and guilt did not like me for I always woke them up. They were pushing down, harder and harder, harder than I could have possibly imagined. But actually, this was probably the biggest case of lack of responsibility and a higher amount of guilt than Mt. Everest. I tried to push them away, not in the mood for reminders but they wouldn't budge.
'Go away!' I say, louder than I should of, 'I am seriously not in the mood for constant reminders!'
'Fine.' They reply, maybe a bit too upset.
Well of course, I could have guessed. They were pushing harder than ever before.
'Go away!!' I scream. I see someone pointing at themselves as if to say 'me?'.
'Sorry. No not you.' I say to him.
'See? Now look what you've done.'
'Whatever.' They reply. They ease off a little bit. People are looking at me. They wonder why I'm talking to myself. I remember that their eyes are too feeble and their ears can't pick up the soft evil, luring sound of emotions. I can. And it's very annoying. Sometimes I wish I was just normal, just like everyone else, so I could touch the table, without feeling the little granules left by human hands, the splinters of wood on the table that no normal person could feel. It gets extremely frustrating. Of course people were going to look. Oh well. I'd learned to live with it. The next thing that happened was that I was darting for the car to the right of the parking lot.