Curiosity Killed a Friendship Essay -- Personal Narrative Essays

How many people wonder some holes in the ceiling and cracks on the floor? When did they happen? What caused them? Or what about when you try out a cigarette in someones hand and lead yourself how do they feel about smoking even though they contend its dangerous. And even if people do estimate about these things, why? For what purpose? I guess I do it out of boredom. besides is boredom rightfully an excuse? I mean, rattling, how bored can a person get? I dont believe it is boredom after all, credibly tenuity, which can build to all sorts of lengths, and I believe it most sure 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 centre of attention? I am almost positive it isnt boredom, only when curiosity and that is where and how I try to make sense of this story. It begins on a prim hot October morning, with birds singing and flowers in full bloom, ok, not really. I die hard in Washington 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 radical of friends. All the people in this group and all the people that ring this group were a part of my life and some still are. I dont really understand why, but at first I really did enjoy citeing out with these people. I guess maybe because they were cool, but I mean we never really did anything cool. So basically we sit down 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 change by reversal part of the crew, in fact that one conversation, everything I hated about myself and a nything else bestowed upon me had been poured out, through words on my phone. The girl I told this to was very mixed-up and lost a friend. I went from the loved to the hated in a matter of a fifteen-minute conversation. And quite frankly I was so unhinge that I really didnt care to speak to any of them again. I contumacious 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 pointless 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 because she changed, a little, and we became friends again. Or at least I hope...