The person that I knew?

So, on the way to the optometrist (still so very excited)

I was told about a person I once knew during my ironic pre-and-into blindness years.
It was a Saturday group, and the kids were dragged into it and they all became friends, usual Asian stuff, or so I’d assume.

I fell out of it pretty fast, fortunately.

However, the parents are still connected, even if the children aren’t.

What does this mean? Gossip!

So, one kid named Steven, I knew him up to a point where he was in Jr. high, and that was it.He ended up being sick, or whatever, and ended up in a hospital after being found in a closet. He’s really skinny, and from what I’m told, he went into a closet and was found inside it. More or less, he wants to die, he doesn’t want to eat, and other such.

The first time, he was in the hospital for 10 days.
Apparently, I was told of his second time, which was recent, and just today, or a day ago, I know not, but it’s within the week, that he was finally taken home, discharged after 9 days.

Now, I have to wonder what goes on with a person like that. I have to wonder what’s wrong with a person like that. Growing up with him in some form/way, he ended up with an obsession with armpit farts and an unhealthy obsession with Bleach.

We never really did things together, either. Stuff happened, we fell apart. He ended up not really being a friend, in the end. I actually don’t know what the whole Saturday group was about. I mean, the only girl aside a younger girl that didn’t like being there as far as I can tell, she ended up moving to Virginia with her sister.

It turned out that our group kept shrinking and that they obviously didn’t want to do anything together.
Drifting apart,  I decided I had enough, and I was obsessively spending that time with my boy.
In a cruel way, you could say I switched people.
In a weird way, you can say he’s my salvation.
Whatever way there may be, the fact was, at the time, I was actually getting along with a child. Or rather, I knew him when he was a child, and now we’re talking constantly on his early teen years.

I wanted to maintain connections, but apparently his childlike mind didn’t like using MSN messenger often.

Eventually, he finally learned to stick to it. I think we drifted apart for a good year, yea rand a half.

But, we’re not talking about that.
I’m not going on about my past story and our connections.

This is supposed to be about Steven, who apparently has problems, somehow.

I mean, it’s sad to see and hear about a person falling apart like that. He wasn’t smart, but god damn, to go suicidal, crawl into a closet, and want to die?
When we were kids, we used to go into the closet for fun.

I mean, try talking. Good god. Do you not have anyone? How about using the internet, finding a hotline, or doing something drastic?
But to wind up skinny, as well?

I mean, is this a case of a social disorder, or a health disorder? I don’t have any idea or details, but all I can gather was, It’s a matter of both.

He wasn’t skinny and ate just fine over the years I knew him.
He was the awkward idiot of the group, so I could see where there’d be social problems, especially with people in this day and age, so they’re not helping a person like him in any way.

I mean, is the suicide in reference to the social disorder, or is it a mental one that happened, or is it because he has some disease all of a sudden that made him super skinny?

I can’t help a person like that, ironically. If you don’t reach out to others for help, then you can’t be helped, literally. I distanced myself from that group because they didn’t care about anyone that wasn’t them, to begin with.

It’s sad knowing what can happen to a person over the course of the years, and we’re in a similar age range to boot. In fact.. he might be as old as… no, I don’t need to go there, that makes it creepy.

If that Steven person ever wanted help, the only thing I could offer, ironically, is to listen. I used to walk over to his place often, for a long time. I was so bored, and my parents never cared. Apparently, I could walk anywhere and my parents wouldn’t know nor care. I’d just up and leave, walking randomly out of boredom. I’m apparently dangerous. I grew up living on the edge for a child. I could’ve been kidnapped so many times.

If it’s about food and health, I’m no expert, but that’s where I could really help.
Weight and more, if it’s to build a body, and then some, there’s much I can dive into.
It’s nice being well-versed in numerous topics, because I don’t need to be an expert to help people. Helping people should be fun, and should be free.
(Yeah, because requiring Core to get criticism on DeviantArt makes sense. That’s literally, “I paid to have other assholes who are paying, to judge my art in any nonsensical way they may please”.)

It feels weird. Just how much did I know of Steven, and what went wrong with him? One time, he even had a weird eye issue because he was obsessed with blowing balloons.
I mean, he had many problems, but I don’t know if that was because he was stupid or not.
It feels wrong, it feels weird. Could I become like that? Am I being like him?

Lately, I’ve been having all sorts of thoughts, but.. I think, knowing that he’s like that, I can push off some depression and some not-so-good thoughts.

It may sound rude, cruel, and harsh, but there’s always someone worse off, and thinking about this, this kid could’ve become my best friend if he wanted to/tried, but he didn’t. In fact, nothing really mattered to him and phased through him completely.
He’s the type who went with the flow, and I guess, this is where the flow took him, over the falls.

Well, I hear now he’s going to have his mental health checked, somethin’ about an institution? I know not the details, only passing remarks from one mother to another mother.

Oh well. There’s nothin’ one can do, especially under those circumstances, and it’s not like talking about it’s going to help to begin with, it’s just.. it’s sad to think about, that this is a reality where connections can be severed and wind up like that.

I mean… he ended up being.. well, that. Like a vegetable, and more or less, dead inside.

I feel bad for his mother, who has to go through all that. I mean, she was nice lady, last I remember. She had to put up with a dumb husband who couldn’t even get his own beers, and well, yeah.

So, my closing thoughts would have to be…
How does one fall from… grace? No, that’s not right. There wasn’t any grace in being a child.
How does someone end up like that? Well, that’s a bit of a DUH question.
You know, I honestly don’t know what I can think of or take away from this other than, be happier about my life knowing that I’m not like that?

I’ve had surgeries, but that doesn’t mean I needed to be admitted into hospitals twice, over what sounds like he’s trying to kill himself.
I guess, I’m wondering what could possibly go on with someone like that, and what issues they may have, and that I have things far better, so I shouldn’t complain. Or something?

I mean, saying anything sounds harsh, but then, what do I do, not think about my life? Do I not consider what I have? I mean, I compare many things with many thoughts. There’s hundreds of thoughts interconnecting, causing some weird chain reaction should one thing collapse. My mind blows up sometimes, too.

Like, trying to figure out the logic behind stupid people. “How does that even make sense!?” If I try connecting 1, it’ll spawn a subsection of 1A, so that means I’ll have 2, and 2a. But, at the same time, I’ll also have A, and B.

So then, we have 1, 1A, A.
If they say something that outrageous, then all those go kaput and my mind can’t comprehend. I guess it becomes 1+1A+A+A1=mind farts, explosions, diarrhea?

Anyways. I don’t know. I guess the nicest thing is to wish him well? But, hello, he won’t know, and no one really cares what someone else types on the internet.

I guess, I can only leave with a selfish typical human-note of, I should be glad with what I have, I’m still functioning more than someone I knew, or rather, that’s a path I could’ve gone down… In fact, that reminds me of my Jr. High days… I need not speak about those, though.

Oh well. It’ll probably be really bad if he does die, though. Sigh. I’d have to attend his funeral, to boot. Could I bring myself to look at his body?
Here’s the kicker,, I’d finally have glasses and the joy of sight. That will have to be used to see a corpse in the worse-case scenario. Sure, it’s overly negative, but here’s the problem..

It’s a very REAL possibility. Do I want it? Not really.
Would I personally be heavily affected? In ways, yes -and- no.
That’s heavy thoughts on it’s own, to think about how I would and wouldn’t be.
But, that doesn’t matter right now.

I mean, he’s seemingly suicidal, of course it’s a possibility.
Or, that he’s severely ill. It’s hard to tell what’s the case, but the safest thing is to assume that it’s either, and that’s where branching thoughts come into play.

So, in actual closing..

What happened to the person I knew? Is this really what can happen to a person?
Am I taking my life for granted? If I lost things, would I be in a similar state?
What would’ve happened if we actually were friends?
What would have actually happened between us?

I can’t help but wonder many wonders, but in the end, none of that matters.

He’s in his place in life, and I’m in mine. With connections severed, because human bonds are fickle, especially the young ones, there’s nothing that can be done.
Isn’t life really funny, with that?

I mean, I think the same thoughts about Xavier, a kid I knew in the 4th grade.
The one that died from a bullet falling and hitting him.
What would’ve happened if he lived? What life would he had led?
Would we be connected in any way after that short time in elementary? Life’s funny with connecting people, so, would that possibility have ever existed?

Sadly, none of that matters, because he’s dead.

And well, you can’t know a dead person any better than those who live in the present. A personality stops being a personality when that person kinda, stops being a person.

Oh well.

I’ll just be a typical human and make the take-away from this to not take life for granted, and be glad I haven’t been reduced to some sad life-form.


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