fictional story, part 1, unedited.

The idea dawned on me early one friday morning.  I wrote the letters, stuffed the envelopes, and had them in the mailbox before the sun had crested the horizon.  I set a pile of all the things I thought I would need on the bed: deodorant, shirts, an extra pair of shoes, sweatpants, a sweatshirt, a flashlight, and two extra pairs of socks.  I analyzed for a few moments before tossing the non-essentials into the closet.  I took a shower and shaved for what would end up being the last time in months.  The portrait that was my bowl of breakfast cereal was framed by a pair of scissors, my driver's license, a copy of my birth certificate, and my last pay stub.  As the last bit of fiber-laden wheat product started its way through my digestive track I began cutting.  I cut the license into three pieces, then cross cut it into nine pieces.  I followed the same procedure for the birth certificate and pay stub.  I laid my cellphone, my car keys, and the small amount of cash I had on the small desk in the foyer of my apartment and walked out, completely remembering to not shut the front door.  

As I made my way towards more unfamiliar streets I thought about each and every element that had brought me to this grand idea.  My intentions seemed clear.  Social suicide.  I wrote a letter to each and every person I considered important in my life, each letter was personalized, each letter explained everything, yet left so much to say.  I decided to not dwell on my friends' and family members' thoughts, simply to focus on my own.  You could call my actions selfish, but you'd be wrong.  I never deemed any one decision in my life important, until I left that day.  Nothing mattered until I accepted the fact that everything I had been taught or had learned about had been preparing me for this one..big..step.  Stagnancy had brought me to the conclusion that I had become too comfortable with a life that didn't seem rewarding.  I needed to get the know the people the world had nearly forgot, to make the homeless my heroes, to make the alley's idles, my idols.