i'm supposed to be packing. i'm supposed to be envied by. four nights in paradise then off to another three of laughs and drunken haziness. but all i really want to do is sit here and muse. i want that old sensation of being in my own world, where i could determine the axis and how the ball spun. where i was eternally sixteen and the person i always dreamt of being.
when i was young i thought i'd be either the mainstream definition of awesome or the ironically widespread individualistic version of it. instead i'm the listless dreamer who doesn't have a clue what to even desire. still picking petty fights and changing my mind. still living my imagination. still going with societal norms.
i thought i would have grown a backbone by now. or at least a solid perspective. i thought i'd choose my friends instead of hope they chose me. i thought i'd value the same things. why do others' stamp of approval still matter? why does pleasing them still matter?
i once wanted to be like her, like him perhaps. but i never will.
i once wanted to be like her, like him perhaps. but i never will.
why is life disappointing?
will i lose whatever beliefs i have miraculously held on to? perhaps next year, perhaps in ten. but i don't want to. right now i want to be the girl who naively believes she can change someone, something and perhaps have a life worth living. part of me isn't anymore but i never want to be a disillusioned forty-year-old who desires bills more than smiles. deny it, of course you will. we won't be our parents, our predecessors, you say. yet. what are the chances of us straying from the evil we know all too well?
humanity is everything. without it, there is no life. there is only existence.
existing means nothing.
0 comments:
Post a Comment