Rejection 

            It’s crazy how we as human beings always have to be a part of something. We always have to feel wanted. And when we don’t, the feeling of rejection feels like fire consumming up a beautiful green forest in the middle of the night. It feels like a knife slowly erupting from within the heart cutting circulation and cutting life itself. At least for me it does. 

            That’s pretty much how I have felt all my life. One of my main fears, if not my number one, would be, rejection. It feels awful. One of the worst feelings someone can have. Specially when all you have ever wanted was to be part of something, to be, involved. 

            Everyday at work the coworkers I associate the most with and I always sit at the same table. We have marked it as our table. Not literally of course but mostly everyone knows that it is where we sit on our breaks and lunches. But some times someone new or just another random employee will sit there. That won’t make my coworkers sit else where though. They will just pull up a chair and sit around them. 

            It may seem rude but they are polite and say hi and offer their food or snacks. Maybe we should sit somewhere else? Maybe we should get there earlier? But we don’t. 

            Today though was different. I got ther last and all the seats were taken. It’s a table for four, and I was number seven. I pulled up a chair and Mr. Brown who was sitting at a near by table said, “Dam man! There’s a free table right there.” 

           I felt really bad. Yes, I could have gone to that table and sat alone. And even though I don’t consider my coworkers friends they are still close associates I talk to. As bad as it sounds they are there to fill the empty void I would feel if I was alone. 

            When Mr. Brown said that, it made me feel bad. Bad that I wasn’t brave enough to sit alone. Bad that I always had that feeling of rejection in the back of my mind that I had to avoid. Bad that I always had a feeling of being wanted. Bad that I had to sit at that table to feel part of something. Bad because I was just using them to not feel alone. 

But, am I the only one?

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Crazy Shit 

           There is a a lot of commotion going around at work today. It mainly had to do with what happened Tuesday. 

          While we were all on our first break. About six or five cop cars pulled up in the parking lot and arrested Tyler Montejano. He had just come back from two weeks of being absent because “his girlfriend’s father had past away.” 

          He was best friends with Larry, real name, Lawrence Lamberson. He worked with us and I got to know them pretty well. I knew that they had a passion for weed. Once, Larry  was talking about making money from selling some type of acid. 

          I really never hanged out with them at work unless I had to work along side them. In another ocasión, Tyler had told me that if he had to “sell pot for his kids to get a good education” that’s what he was going to do. I always thought these two were a odd pair, but never did I think that they would be up doing some crazy shit. 

          Yes, I did over hear them once in a while talk about drugs. Nothing really clear but I could tell that they were in to that sort of thing. That’s why I kept my distance. 

           What bugs me is that people here at work are going around saying how they were such great people and they were so kind and they didn’t deserve to got to jail. Are you fucking kidding me? I guess they were blind to see the truth.

         Tyler was a straight up asshole and Larry had one of the baddest tempers I knew. They were jerks and did the most they could to not do their work. For me they were annoying. 

         I knew them in a different way then everyone else did. Yes we all worked in the same building but they were in my department. 

           In the morning other people from my department were saying how unfair this was for him. Um, hello? If you fucking sell drugs and you get caught it’s unfair? No. They were saying how they hoped he would deny everything and just ask for his lawyer.  And get released. It’s so stupid. I’m so over it. 

          I feel bad for the kids but not for Tyler. He should have thought about what he was doing, not for him but for his kids. Now they have to see his father go to jail. It’s sucks, but if you did the crime now you have to do the time. 

Mean

          Why are people so mean? Or is it that I just live in a ghetto city? Where people don’t give a fuck about what they say or what they do? Where they don’t care how they treat people, or let alone, if they hurt them? Where they only think about themselves?

          Or maybe I was raised right. I was raised to be respectful. I was raised to be kind and to care about others. To treat others the way you want to be treated. But what if you don’t get that in return? Still, I continue to be nice. Am I too good for this city? Or am I just too humble?

          At work there is a wide long cold distance between girls. Some don’t talk to each other because one didn’t say hi to the other for one day. Others because they simply forgot to invited them to a work birthday lunch, then all the sudden they are sworn enemies. All this is so stupid, but why do you girls live like this? It’s almost like they like it. But when they go home do they not feel the pain that the other person must be in? Wondering why they did the things that they did? 

          Then there are guys who, I don’t know why, but for fun they like to say ‘fuck you’ to each other. THERE IS NO POINT IN THIS. So why do it? Then there is that masculinity bullshit. My dick this my dick that, pussy, pussy, pussy. Who cares? Well, actually, who ever does care is one stupid person with no life goals. There’s more in life than your dick dude. 

          I just want to meet a genuine kind person. Not someone who at first will seem like a nice lovely rose, but then turn out to have the most vicious and sharpest thorns of them all. 

          I wish people would be nicer. I wish people would think before they say their hurtful words. I wish people could see how their words can affect people. I wish they could change. But it’s not up to me. That’s the sad part.