I think everyone is staring at me.  I know it sounds paranoid, but I’m pretty sure that one of every three persons is staring at me.  It maybe that I am on the brink of insanity, as I always thought, or maybe that I have an over active imagination.  It is probably the latter.  After all, that is what I have always been told.  Ever since I was young I was told that I had great imagination.  I guess that over these lonely 19 years that hasn’t changed, but perhaps gotten stronger.  I remember sitting in my room, imagining army troops and war heroes, and then dragons and demon lords overthrowing the castle.
That is now al obsolete now though.  I am 19 years old.  Pretty soon I will be 20 and then 21, and then 22, and eventually 70 and 71.  But then again, that’s only if I can survive that long.  I don’t say that as if I plan to be murdered today.  It is just that I don’t think that I can take this life anymore.  No one seems to understand my ways.  The foods I eat, the way I spend my time, and even my “work ethics”.  Everyone is different, that’s what I’ve always had shoved down my throat.  Since day one everyone I know has preached tolerance.  “Can’t we all just get along.”  Yeah, that’s what I want to say, every time someone says, “Hey Doug, why don’t you have some veggies, or maybe some steak.”  No thanks, I don’t know why, I just don’t want any.  I have never even tried most of the things I profess to dislike.  Maybe it is psycho-semantic, I have just said that I don’t like them for so long that I have begun to believe it.
Back to the paranoia.  I began to notice the common thread among the people of this world, the seem to find pleasure in staring at me.  I was doing such a good job at avoiding humanity until I got my license.  Then I could drive, and get a job, and interact with my fellow man.  Pardon me as I contain my joy.  It seemed that everywhere I looked everyone was staring at me.  I know, you say, “Well, you were looking at them too, how do you know that you weren’t staring?”  I’ll tell you why, because I can feel them.  I can sense that they are always looking at me, and when I turn to see if I am correct, I see that in fact they are.  I have even caught them out of the corner of my eye, just gawking at me.  I know that it is not just me.
I even noticed it with the kids that I baby sit in church, they won’t get near me, but God knows, they will stare until their eyes bleed if you let them.  I think everyone knows something about me that I don’t, maybe I have more in store for my life than I have led myself to believe.

And thus the 437th page of Doug’s journal came to an end.  He closed the book, looking at himself in the mirror, and thought about what he was capable of.  He turned the lights off, and soon everything was forgotten.  At least until he remembers it tomorrow.  As he sleeps the world does not.  It continues to turn, just like it always has.  The other people go about their daily routines, and everything stays the same as it has since the dawn of time.

The next morning came, the sun rose and the birds sung, and Doug’s alarm clock went off.  He quickly got up and shut it off, his instincts were kicking in.  He thought for a second.  “It’s Saturday, and it’s been a long time since I’ve slept in.”  He turn around and walked back to the bed to go to sleep.  He awoke several times to glance at the clock, it was progressively later than the last time he looked.  It was having any dreams, he wouldn’t remember them.  Eventually he read the clock at 11:54am and decided it was time to get up.  He got dressed in khaki shorts and a gray shirt.  He walked out to see what his family was doing.  His mother was at the computer, as usual.  She was a work-a-holic.  Slaving over numbers of doctors bills, trying to sort them out as per her job description that day.  He continued out to the living room and saw no one.  Outside the window his car was parked with the trunk open.  His stepfather was making good on his promise to work on it.  His sister, a ten year old with the classic I’m-better-than-you-even-though-you-are-twice-as-old-as-me complex, (or IBTYETYATAOAM for short, or long, depending on how you look at it) was nowhere to be seen, which meant she was outside playing with her only neighborhood friend.
Doug wasn’t quite sure what to do.  He had told his father that he had turned I numerous applications for jobs yesterday, but the sad fact was that he had just picked them up, thinking he would fill them out and return them today. Unfortunately he forgot that Jeff would be changing the gas filter or whatever it was called.