– An observation from my memory – The first time

I lifted my hand on the silver door handle, and pulled out the door. There was, Bill, Ryan, Jessie etc. a group of people including some of my friends were practicing an up-coming performance that I have never heard of. Every movement were delicate, deliberate and precise, they looked so professional with their eyes looking straight into the mirror. This must not to be their first practice, ‘what is this performance for?’ I looked around but no one seemed to have a second to answer and no one did even look at me. I sat on a chair nearby trying to get involve their practice for 20 minutes, but I still feel apart from them because I knew nothing. This was the started, the first time I felt being isolated and desire to being as one of them. I sat on the chair with my eyes gradually lost of focus, people were moving away and toward me, yet they never really mind if I exist or not.