"It'll never come to that. You'll always have friends and family."

I remembered having that conversation, but I don't remember why, or with whom. I do remember however, that, man, was I ever feeling down on life. Don't they have family? Don't they have friends? Come on, EVERYONE has friends. Give me a break, all it takes is a few bucks to get to where you're going, and the basic drive of self preservation to get you through the ordeal. A job is a job. Anything beats laying your head on an old pile of rags on a winter day that feels like the inside of a witches tit, trying to get some sleep while the world works double-time around you, the city's ants swarming up and down the streets with their W Hotel umbrellas and heavy trench coats, being oh-so-careful not to step on you.

The mind plays tricks, though. Anytime, anyplace, anywhere. Sure, once I was doing all right for myself ,enjoying myself, going out, meeting new people, and generally just putting some words on the pages of my book between page 1 and page 100 ... That, however, slowly became unacceptable. Unexpectedly, the shame I had over every stupid little thing I had ever done slowly took control, making me regret even saying hello to that cute guy at my college. It consumed me, invaded my every thought, and slowly turned me into a dejected, anti-social monster.

People used to tell me not to make waves. Waves cause trouble, and trouble just ain't worth it. So I stopped making waves. I gave up. I don't know why. There's no rhyme or reason. I was just too terrified of the consequences of even the most insignificant actions.
I couldn't brush my teeth. The water from the sink would wake the neighbors.
I couldn't cook. The clicking of the stove would mess up the flight pattern of some random plane passing overhead.
I couldn't leave the house.
TV? You must be insane.
The doctors, I'm sure, had a name for it, I just couldn't remember what it was. Finally, they just outright kicked me out on my ass. Couldn't sleep anymore. Hadn't shown up for college in weeks. They forced me into the world I didn't want to be a part of.

I just wanted to be left alone. I walked through the streets for days, looking for someplace to hide. Nowhere was good enough. I was tired. Exhausted, really, from trying to do nothing. That alley looks dark enough. Let me just sit for a minute, and rest my mind and soul. So what if it's wet? I'll dry eventually, right? I slid down the wall, my knees up against my chest, my head down. A few feet away, I could hear the general cacophony of life milling about all around me, mocking me and twisting that knife just a little more.
I had become..... The Eye of the Storm.