Journals

My house. A place I goto everyday. It represents me as a kind, average, doesn’t stand out in thecrowd, but still fits in kinda house. It’s like any other house you would see.And deeper into my house, my room, is where I can call it my own and decorateit and make it… me. My room is quite meager, with an extravagant bed that fillsmost of the space. A dusty, delicate desk that stands tall by the wall, and mystyle of clothing, sluggishly thrown in my dresser. And if all of this wasburning to the cold ground, I would take my most precious items. My peppy pets,(of course), they deserve to live too, my pretty purse that holds my money andcute wallet, my phone, floppy dog slippers, and my baby box. All these memoriesI wouldn’t want to die with my house.

An outcast is someonewho doesn’t belong somewhere; they are a rouge to the people or the place. Atime when I felt like an outcast was when I went to high school. It’s fairlynew event that happened. I went to Erie middle school not Sunset, so I didn’t knowanyone except my friend who came with me but soon left to go back to Erie thefirst week into school. Anyway, that made me feel like a very forlorn person. Igradually began to make friends, but in the beginning, I felt like a bigoutcast in Niwot. Society must have outcasts, because without them, we wouldn’thave safety rules about horrible things that have happened in the past fromoutcasts, like when 9/11 happened, without that event we wouldn’t have adaptedto making safety precautions we do today to make society a better place. Eventhough some outcasts have caused horrible things, it forms society to be whatit is today.