To All Concerned, A Letter By Me

October 31, 1996  Thursday

Halloween.  One of my favorite times, and perhaps my favorite holiday.  If only I could grow young again to do things I did in my childhood for one night…

Anyway, Mr. Beres is going to be gone for at least two weeks, probably three, and maybe even an entire month.  Mrs. Shoemaker will be our long-term sub in Speech and English.  Hoke told me he was gone because of a surgury for colon cancer.  I don’t know.  We’ll have to see.

Now, on to my main reason for this entry.  I promised that I would write what I felt.  No one should then take this personally in any way.  That isn’t why this is being written.  I simply want to convey my feelings about how I am viewed.  Thank you.  And now, ladies and gents, on with Will’s Letter:

To all concerned,

My name is Will Carlson.  I love Superman, autumn days, a great song, and my biggest thrill would be to see the Cubs in the Fall Classic (please, I’m being serious here).  I have lived in Elmwood my entire life, this town of 2,000 people, and I enjoy its Norman Rockwell serenity.

Now let’s get down to it.  I am a shy person.  I don’t mind talking (and sometimes I really enjoy it with good friends), but sometimes I can’t think of anything to say.  This small nervousness, I believe, translates into a general awkwardness.  Because of this I appear to sometimes be a bit strange.  Did I say a bit strange?  Check that.

Maybe it’s because I’ve always tried so hard to have people like me.  I truly believe I am a good friend for the people that have taken the time to get to know me…

In all honest, I like everyone at school.  I mean everyone.  It’s not difficult at all to find the positive aspects of a person.  The way I see it, we all have our own flaws, so how can I judge?

I think about these things a lot.  Maybe too much.  Actually, I really prefer thinking to talking anyway.  When I don’t talk, I get to sit back and enjoy listening to everyone and thing around me.  You’d be surprised what you would learn.

Sure, sometimes I feel a little resentment for what is the general consensus about me.  But, you know I take such a timid approach to it all I’m the pacifist’s pacifist.  After all, they’re only words…

To all concerned, let me make my final point; the evidence of my sanity: The very passage you have read.  Or, as Poe put it:

True!–nervous–very, very dreadfully nervous had I been and am! but why will you call me mad?  The disease had sharpened my senses–not destroyed–not dulled them.  Hearken!  and observe how healthily–how calmly I can tell you the whole story.

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