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The Simply Complex Writer

     Leaning against a tree in the heat of that stupid, idiotic summer, I watched, watched with illogically, irrationally sad eyes. To be honest, my eyes made no real sense to me as I made them to look as such, but I did it anyways because I thought that something good might happen.

     Taking out a crumpled piece of paper, I wondered if she’d maybe look and think I was intelligent. Maybe someone important; I had asked God to give me something important to do and He had said to stop thinking and to love instead. I had also called myself a fool for that and, standing against the trunk of a tree in that idiotically stupid summer’s heat, I half-believed it, but in the back of my mind I thought fairytale-like endings could be true.

      My heart being a bit rash, kind of like the heat and my eyes, did something to the effect of pounding on my chest insanely fast with a fist clenched around some very shiny brass knuckles. She had waved, I think, at me.  

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