And when the sun comes up tomorrow, let her be.
It's amazing how one summer can differ so drastically from the next. In high school summers represented complete freedom. The last day of school was just crazy...we ran down the halls like idiots and of course at Fontianebleau (the epitome of ghetto) a few jackasses would set of stink-bombs. There'd be talks of bomb threats, parties and whatever else was being planned for the ultimate "last day of school" extravaganza. And when August rolled around..knowing that you had to go back was complete torture. I think I lost that back-to-school excitement in 8th grade, really.
Now summer is just time to gather your bearings, and for me, I contemplate every aspect of my life that would rather remain hidden. I become so dependant on the structure that keeps my life together at school that when I come home I feel stranded and helpless. It's discouraging, really, to the point that I worry my life at school was all just a lucky phase that will be gone forever when I go back.
I know that's dramatic. And overthought. But I've just grown out of this place, and the people, and the roads I could drive with my eyes closed. I'm tired of playing in "old life, new life" limbo. I need to learn how to take it easy.
Or at least drink a daiquiri. Banana Chocolate, Mmm.
Now summer is just time to gather your bearings, and for me, I contemplate every aspect of my life that would rather remain hidden. I become so dependant on the structure that keeps my life together at school that when I come home I feel stranded and helpless. It's discouraging, really, to the point that I worry my life at school was all just a lucky phase that will be gone forever when I go back.
I know that's dramatic. And overthought. But I've just grown out of this place, and the people, and the roads I could drive with my eyes closed. I'm tired of playing in "old life, new life" limbo. I need to learn how to take it easy.
Or at least drink a daiquiri. Banana Chocolate, Mmm.