Am I dead- No, do I belong here among human kind? Sometimes I feel as though I don't belong here. My mind is else where, lost in a world of my own, why aren't I? The weeks cannot come fast enough and the weekends can't go slower. Nothing interests me unless it fits in my own little world. I feel my mind, and the stories I create, are more then any of life's truths. But why is this? Is it because, like the creature from Frankenstein, I too have been shunned and abused by humanity for my ugly face? What is this? What is life? What is this partial consciousness in which I dwell? Where my eyes are open but I feel as if I cannot wake? If I could hold onto the real world? Maybe I could be normal? Maybe then those around me would stop hurting me, stop beating me? No, no, I am normal. I see what I see that is all. I am a keeper of stories, without them, life is meaningless! I will not become some idol teenaged child who jibbers on and on about cell phones, and new shoes, and purses! My life has a meaning and living a normal, life is meaningless! I have knowledge beyond my years of life and death and things man cannot even comprehend. I feel as if I am dead though, A ghost,a shade, only a chosen few can see me. For what is it that truly make us human, the definition of human is "One who shows human nature" But I do not. I do not hate, I do not destroy without meaning,I fear humans for a reason, for the harm the have caused me, and they are still capable of. I cannot help but wonder, evolution my not be and out ward thing at times, What if, some people are just born better then human? This is what I wonder, are there others like me or am truly dead and alone in my story book world.