Sunday, August 1, 2010

At sunrise we will dance the hempen jig. So raise up your pint of rum and take another swig.

I'm sixteen. I feel so old. Over a third of the guys in my school can play an instrument so well they might as well be professionals. Everyone I see seems to have fulfilling ways to spend their time. They enjoy their hobbies, get a true sense of achievement from their little triumphs. I have no such thing. I feel old, as if I've spent my life watching everyone else go by, being happy, while I wasted my time dreaming of what could be. And now it's too late.
We see all these shows and movies and read these books that inspire us to truly live our lives. But it's harder than it sounds. I'm trapped by walls I can't see, as well as the ones I built around myself.

To someone, or maybe the world:

To E:

I don't understand you yet. But I'm getting there.

To everyone who cares about me:

I'll be fine.

To Raftboy, Trenchfoot, the choir, Teddy, everyone I love and everyone who has ever loved me and everyone else who deserves it:
To Wombat:

To a jewel:

One day all that will be left is a faded memory. So let's make it a good one.

1 comment:

Camelgirl said...

Nice post,
and I can relate to that first bit, oh so well, and you expressed it oh so well.
Also, do I have a code name? Was I a person?
Haha, and I like the last lines.