"I need the smell of summer, I need its noises in my ears"
Three days ago I felt it was necessary to drive through Pine Ridge to clear my thoughts, my strange bimonthy ritual. I put Creedence Clearwater Revival on cd player. My mind zeroes in on everything I want, well, need to momentarily forget. I think about how I sighed heavily and threw out my acceptance letters for jmu, vcu, and gmu. I got in, but do I really want to go to college right away? After which I applied to tcc. My mother tells me I've changed since last summer- how I am "always working," losing foucs on what I've wanted for so long, and I spend too much time with my friends. I think I haven't changed too much, but I am finding it harder and harder to fit to her "leave it to beaver" skewed sense of reality. Remy fits. Remy loves to stay at home. I told my mother that my boss told me today that I am "probably one of the most reliable and hardest working at the Aquarium," she proceeded to tell me that I spead myself too thin at work.
I turned the familar corner and drove past my old home, my thoughts drift to my ex-boyfriend. I think he's married to the girl he cheated on me with. That's lovely. I think they deserve each other and will end up living in a trailer and further become the epitome of white trash. I can't help but become a cynic when thinking of him, thank you.
Despite these thoughts, everything is alright, fabulous even. I have some of the most amazing friends an eighteen-year-old girl could ask for, I am appreciated at my job, and school is surprisingly nonstressful (although I've taken an apathetic approach to it anyway). Dating has lost its flavor as of late, but for that I am most gracious. I look forward to this summer and getting my apartment with friends. Closer, I look forward to prom and graduating. Even closer, I look forward to finishing this yearbook. Everything is alright and life is content.
I turned the familar corner and drove past my old home, my thoughts drift to my ex-boyfriend. I think he's married to the girl he cheated on me with. That's lovely. I think they deserve each other and will end up living in a trailer and further become the epitome of white trash. I can't help but become a cynic when thinking of him, thank you.
Despite these thoughts, everything is alright, fabulous even. I have some of the most amazing friends an eighteen-year-old girl could ask for, I am appreciated at my job, and school is surprisingly nonstressful (although I've taken an apathetic approach to it anyway). Dating has lost its flavor as of late, but for that I am most gracious. I look forward to this summer and getting my apartment with friends. Closer, I look forward to prom and graduating. Even closer, I look forward to finishing this yearbook. Everything is alright and life is content.