Foreign

There was a boy in his teens at the train, and he looked foreign. His brown hair was a mess, but he wasn't ostentatious about it. The clothes he was wearing looked very comfortable. He was wearing a backpack. He was observant, and he sent a message saying he's "been everywhere", probably to his father. We both went down at Shaw Boulevard. That was all. I must have dropped the words while walking to the office.

I was excited to build up a character just like him, since he seemed like the type who would go for a beer at midnight. This man reminds me of my Japanese friend who's been very kind and pensive. We would talk for about three straight hours, and I kind of miss it. He would play Red Hot Chili Peppers. He likes the band. He also likes Johnny Depp, and he wants to be an actor in Hollywood, but in my heart I know he won't make it. He's just not the type. Then there was this semester where I got busy with a theater production that I couldn't find time to talk to him. He left at the end of that semester. I wrote a letter that morning before he left. All my friends gave him gifts, and I have never thought of giving him anything.

Now I write things like these in the same sentence structure. I will revise this tomorrow morning.