Hoarding.

Hoarding. 

I would call myself a mild hoarder. I try to save everything and attempt to find a use for it. But eventually, I get tired with all the mess and just start throwing stuff away. Often times I regret my decisions. Usually a week or so later, I will decide that I truly needed--------- (insert object here). 

But then there are those times that I'm so glad I hoard things. Like last night. I was going through all my old college papers/notes. Yes, I still have most everything. In my defense a lot of it is various writings and things that I would hopefully deem useful if I went to grad school. Sometimes I dwell on the idea that I used to write. Here is one of those findings. 

It's that time again. Wednesday. Three O' Clock. Screenwriting 2009. There is a classroom and a handful of students sitting in the second row, closest to the aisle-- Sam sits. Medium height girl with grey eyes and constant out of control wavy hair. She stares into space. Maybe another world, maybe another universe.  

          "Sam," said the Professor.  

No sound, no response.  

          "Sam, are you present?"  

Still nothing.  

Sam blinks. She is sitting in Zimbabwe. The sky is pitch black and all she can see are the stars above her. Sam is a meidum height girl with grey eyes and her hair is even more out of control because she hasn't showered or touched her hair in five days. She gazes at the stars and ponders.  

         "Sam," said Jayde.  

Nothing, no response. 

        "See any shooting stars yet?" 

Sam blinks.  

        "Ever wish you were somewhere else," she murmurs. 

Just to give you a little back story. This was written months after I met this boy. This was written almost 2 years before I started dating him. I think I've been rather smitten for more than a little while.