Today was the first meeting of the poetry club at my school. Fortunately it consisted of a little group of friends I had, unfortunatly I'm not very close to them. I mean, I think they are too cool, and one of them is my best friend, but with the otehrs I'm just too guarded and self-conscious. My last best friend decided to be emo/girly, and I knew my current best friend last year, but I want more best friends but I'm just too...scared. What if they all turn emo/girly, choose to ignore me, and only pretend to be my best friend if their other friends aren't around? So I forgot that I had to bring some poetry, so I hastily grab a small poem I wrote that I kept stored in locker about my little problem with my friends. So I sit down and wonder if I have any other poems in my backpack, and it turns out I have almost all my songs in there. Ms. Turner asked if I wanted to share, and I was kinda like "No, maybe...later..." Everyone starts talking about poetry, and everyone says they hate rhyming poems, which made me want to evaporate. I can't help but rhyme poems. There's something in my head that wants me to rhyme. I've never seen it as anything less than a gift, but now it just seems like a curse. So then it was creativity time, and it was silent for a few minutes, then we got to talking about random stuff, mostly about dreams. One girl explains a dream that had to do with balconies, and afterwards I stated that "that is why I'm afraid of balconies." Let me tell you, it's annoying how much my friends don't care for the balconies in my school, while I'm gripping the opposite wall hoping one of them doesn't "accidently" bump me. Randomly, my best friend grabs my poem and runs. Normally I wouldn't have bothered, but she was about to read it out loud. It's not actually a bad poem, but it's about a dodo bird, which might make the others not take it so seriously. So we're having a wrestling match, and I guess I was winning, but I still couldn't get the paper back since I folded it up so dang small. I only got it back after the teacher intervened (finally). Finally the day was over. Before they left, they told Ms. Turner that they can't get offended easily. Lucky them. I get offended so easily, and I care what other people think. They have no idea how long I spend in front of the mirror, trying to find the perfect outfit that made me look like I didn't give a damn while still looking good.