Curiosity Killed a Friendship Essay -- Personal Narrative Essays

How many people wonder astir(predicate) holes in the ceiling and cracks on the floor? When did they happen? What caused them? Or what astir(predicate) when you see a cigarette in someones hand and ask yourself how do they feel about smoking even though they get along its dangerous. And even if people do think about these things, why? For what purpose? I guess I do it out of tiresomeness. But is boredom really an excuse? I mean, really, how bored arse a person get? I dont believe it is boredom after all, probably distinctive feature, which can build to all sorts of lengths, and I believe it most certainly starts there. How else can you explain why I want to know what happened to a certain somebody when a certain somebody else, punches them in the eye? I am almost positive it isnt boredom, but curiosity and that is where and how I try to make sense of this story. It begins on a nice hot October morning, with birds singing and flowers in full bloom, ok, not really. I live in Washi ngton for crying out loud. But how awesome would it be if it worked out that way. It really would put something beautiful into this mesh of words. Actually it really didnt have a starting place, but starting people. A group of friends. All the people in this group and all the people that surrounded this group were a better of my life and some still are. I dont really understand why, but at first I really did enjoy hanging out with these people. I guess peradventure because they were cool, but I mean we never really did anything cool. So basically we sat around pretending to be cool, because we were considered cool. Or maybe it was just the others that were considered cool. I really dont know, but pretending to be cool was just not all that cool to me. I dont understand how people can hang out w... ...re. Sadly, the infection, the disease had taken over me too. I had officially become part of the crew, in fact that one conversation, everything I hated about myself and anything els e bestowed upon me had been poured out, through words on my phone. The girl I told this to was very upset and lost a friend. I went from the loved to the hated in a issuance of a fifteen-minute conversation. And quite frankly I was so upset that I really didnt care to speak to any of them again. I decided not to do anything mean (wow, I really had become a bad person if I had to decide not to be mean). So maybe my story was superfluous and you dont understand why I think curiosity is the cause of all things and why it kills all, but it killed my friendships, it killed my personality, it killed my life. But then she changed, a little, and we became friends again. Or at to the lowest degree I hope...