Again and Again I get up in the morning and go to school.
Again and Again I eat the same breakfast, drive the same route, and look at the same things.
Day after Day I sit in the same classes, and hear the same things.
Where are you going to college? Do your homework! Always be the best. Who will you be in the future?
If there even is a future…
But do you ever think to yourself, what is my purpose?
I do the same thing every single day just like everyone else, but who cares?
As long as we get good grades, are successful in our activities, and are “normal” and not “weird” then we have nothing to worry about Everything will take care of itself from there and we will live long happy fulfilling lives right? Who really knows.
life goes on.
Lives are started
life goes on.
Theft and murder is committed
life goes on.
Terrorism and natural disasters
and yet life continues to go on.
Friend starts a rumor at school
Game over, life ruined, I can’t believe it.
We live in a world where the smallest, most meaningless things have the biggest impacts.
And I just think to myself, why are we even here?
Dear my past self,
In my life there were many questions I used to ask myself like, “Why did this happen?,” or “Why didn’t this happen?” I tried to figure out things in my life that couldn’t be solved right away. As time went by many things started to make sense, but not all. I worked hard for everything I have now and will earn in the future. There have been stuff that i have gained and lost in life. Over time the way I look at things change and so does my life. I had to give up something very important to me that I thought I would never give up, but I had to accept it because my life is different from the past. God has a plan for me and I just have to make the right decisions and follow him to the very end. I am very proud of myself and wish that life will get better. The future holds many great things and I am working toward what my future will be like.
Occasionally I can’t hear even my own thoughts. Everything races through so abnormally fast, that an individual thought doesn’t last more than a split second. That’s why I write. Why not just place the things in my head on paper? Seems logical enough. I can honestly say that I despise the word, “hobby.” Every single year, without fail, the teachers, and I literally mean every teacher, asks, “what are your hobbies?” Personally writing, to me, isn’t a hobby, it’s my passion. When I can’t think straight, I pick out of my pool of randomized thoughts, what inspires me. I’ll be completely honest, my inspiration today was my over excitement/disappointment towards this guy. He’s literally taking over my thoughts. His name is up there floating around with the verb endings of french. My head would probably be a rather frightening area to encounter actually. There is legitimately so much going on. It’s kind of like this:
Picture a mariachi band attempting to out play a punk rock group, with a trio of dancers trying to learn a new number, and the cast of Dance Moms screaming 24/7. It’s rather insane from time to time, but that’s how I prefer it. When my thoughts aren’t going insane, it’s simply, well, awkward. Even now, while I just sit here, my thoughts seem at an all time high. So when asked why I write, usually my response is something like this:
Writing isn’t a hobby, it’s a way of life. Why do you breathe?