Inspired by a study hall session full of emo-prejudice conversation (lol), a new story title arose; Black Tears. Apparently, it's the "coolest title for a story ever," as stated by the guys in that class. As ridiculous as it sounds, I started writing out what the story could be about. The cover would have to be an opera mask with one black tear rolling down - another suggestion from the guys. I've written sad stories before, but never one that limited. I didn't want to go with your average high school girl story about a misfit attitude that turned around in the end with the help of good friends you never really realized you had. So I looked at it from a very personal point of view. The cover was real, and depressing. So what was real to me that depressed me the most? My very first thought was the series of recent discoveries I'd made about some of my best guyfriends; they're all on drugs. It really hurt that I couldn't change them, that they didn't really care. So I went with it. Within minutes, I had in front of me a full storyline; girl meets boy, boy is on drugs, and the whole story is in poetry form. The story was really playing out on Thursday; got about seven or eight pages down, front and back, in a brand-new 3-subject notebook. As of now, the notebook is lost DDDD: and I haven't a clue where in my disaster-zone bedroom is may be. I've quite taken to the belief that the harder you look for something, the more lost it gets, so I made the idiotic decision to not look for it. At all. But I'm dying away, for there is no greater agony than that of an unwritten story trapped inside. So i shall tear apart my bedroom until I find it; because Black Tears is about to take a twist...a deep one.
*Happy Writing,*
Addie
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