Today I woke up feeling melancholy, not in a depressive way but thoughtfulness. I looked outside but all I could see was dreay rain and dark overcast skies. It is days like this that make me want to think about my past. Gloomy day, gloomy past.

When this mood comes on I try to find a positive from it and put it to rest and move on. Today, I realized that no matter how harsh my past was it doesn't compare to what others have suffered. There stands a memorial on a corner not far from my house where a young man was shot in the back over a rumor at school. I am fortunate that I have never had to experience that type of hurt or pain. Although I did witness my mother taking a butcher knife to my father, she wanted to cut his throat. The sad thing about that is I stood and watched in silence, and when it was over continued about my business. I had grown use to their fighting. Even at such a young age I can remember thinking I'll never be like them.