indefinite thoughts and vast wishes

Despite the stress I am doing okay, but sometimes I get the feeling that I’m just passing through.  It’s hard to feel like you’re a part of something when you’re doing everything you can to ensure you have a future far away.

Trig Class Poem

We made time
To sputter and die,
To whisper away into oblivion
Uncertainty and obscurity.
We made time to fade
Into the annals of history.
I knew you once,
Trembling and alive
In transient, breathing wonder.
I miss you silently.
It might seem I am replacing you easily
With new experiences and vulnerabilities.
But I love you more than it would seem.

Update

It’s been 3 weeks since my last confession.

Since then:

• I lost my job
• my cousin is having a baby
• I did fine on a history test
• Band made ACC’s
• We came in 7th out of 7
• I wrote two poems
• I changed my mind about someone
• Mike Walker almost pushed me off a trampoline
• I fought loneliness
• I missed my friends

Harmonic Practice in Tonal Music and other stories

High school is a sinkhole of human emotion and brainless work.

Except the musical, magical parts where I get to create something awesome.

I need to finish this DBQ.  I haven’t the will.  I feel like I could be doing something much more interesting, fulfilling, just better.

Why do I waste my time?

I’m barely hanging on, and It’s just as bad for me as it is for everyone else. I’m just a bit better at faking it.

All it took was that one ride home in your van to show me how different things have become between us.  I guess it’s a good thing.  I don’t know.

I remember when twenty seemed so old.  Most of my close friends are going to be twenty in the next two months, if they aren’t already.  It’s all very strange to me, in a way that turning ten or sixteen or eighteen isn’t at all.  Everything’s changing so fast it sometimes makes me wonder how I missed it.

I’m sorry you feel like we need to make up for lost time and maybe that I’m not what I promised to be, but maybe I like myself better this way.  If I can’t respect my choices then what’s the point of choosing in the first place?  Might as well free-wheel into walls.  (Irony.)

These are the outskirts of town.  Everything I’ve ever feared, but I love it, love the way I can be so free and easy without even trying to be.  A summer song plays and my hair flicks into my face as we fly through the Indian summer air.  I should have outgrown this long ago, but I can’t help it, it’s just so easy.  It’s innocent and beautiful and familiar.  It’s friendship. I can’t believe I never had this before.  It’s almost too good.