started with memories, ends with questionmark?

Do you remember high school? My footprints to high school path are washed away. It's been years back, five to be exact. I've heard gazillion stereotypes during those years of high schools. Maybe I went to a nice one (red: nice, not great!). Maybe I was zombied all three years of high school. Maybe I was just v.good at outweighing the good over the bad. But three years there weren't a nightmare.

Hold on. I didn't say that there weren't social strata happening during those three years. There was. The frightening kingdom with king and queen and their princes and princesses. The cool kids and not-so-cool.

Looking back, I was neither.

So why am I bringing this up again?
Drew barymore can have her self-discovery by posing as an underage teenager in a high school yard and play the cool chic card and hence find her the true love... (No, I'm not gonna say, SO CAN I!)

You know what, I donno what I wanna say. Honestly, the past is always pushed back and forgotten. I don remember much being a teenager. Heck I'm like walking through walls these past years. Do I even breathing? Do I even have memories to tell? Are they really my compadres after all? If so, why I'm lost? They were there. There were crowds around me. I was in but come to think of it, I only felt void. They all looked hazy, or was it just my head spinning? Were was I for the past twentytri years? Was I exist? Am I even alive?

... I've checked. Air coming out of my nose, heart's pounding normally, eyes are blinking, I hear music perfectly. I am alive. I do exist. Why void prevails? Was it always been like this eight years ago? I must've been really sad kid. Maybe I am now. Maybe...

This wasn't planned to have an eerie ending. Then again, maybe I'm just telling the truth. The unspoken truth. Rosalind found Orlando, Josie have Sam, Will and Anna always have their secret garden; June and her Joseph, who always sat beside her. Is it that feeling lacking in my life? Maybe. Maybe not. Nevertheless, it could be one of the thing that's missing.

Dear Mr. Shakespeare,
Do you know my Orlando, sir?
Where can I find my Orlando?
Oh please dear kind sir, you found Orlando for Rosalind.
If not much to ask, could you find my Orlando for me?

Wait, priority first!
Dear God, washed away the void I feel inside. It kills.
... then perhaps you could help William find my Orlando for me??
Thanking you in advance!