A multitude of firsts.
Some he takes,
others I give freely.

How many more days to pass?
Days that has been infected
by the guilt ridden
heart of mine.

How many more fortnights to pass?
How many more teardrops to fall
and wrong words to strike
until the day i thrive?

How many more disappointed sighs
and displeased faces
until the blurry future
reveals itself?

How much time did i loose
drooping away,
dreading the consequences
of my failed deeds?

Vague lies that i told myself
to ease my conscience
coming back to me
to torment my dreams.

I pity the girl that ones
avidly awaited
a blissful time ahead
without actually earning it.

Muffled screams of my past
echoing from deep down
yearning to break free
from my rotten core.

A life all to myself
and people that care
still the person i turned out to be
is not the person i wanted to be.

All the aimless days
pushed forward
all for that one moment
that will reveal what i want.

But what if that day never comes?

Everyone act the same
Its the same ******* allover again
Nobody tries to change
They all alike, yet different

I'm not perfect nor cool
But I don't play like that
I promised myself,
I'll never fall
into the very same rabbit hole

All of them want to be something
How can someone like them be special,
when they are all the same ******* losers?

However, who am I?
Am I better?
I need to make a change
Do the words speak louder or acts?
I need to break the comforting silence, how though?

All of them lie to themselves,
so they don't feel shame
Me included......

In the mirror's reflection, a distorted self,
A quiet struggle unfolds, invisible to others.
Every meal becomes a battleground,
Where thoughts race too fast,
feeding fears and doubts.
The mind spins in a relentless cycle,
Chasing illusions of control and worth.
Yet within this turmoil, a fragile hope emerges,
A gentle promise that healing is possible,
And a brighter path awaits beyond the shadows.
Don't know what's going on,
you only know that your brain is on fire,
you can't think right because you're thinking a thousand miles an hour.

“How does it feel, studying for your first exam of the semester?” My sister Annick dug at me, via Facetime.
“Oh, I’m miserable and no one even knows!” I exclaimed excitedly.

I already miss summer’s sense of infinite time and space, and life on the lake, with its big, wet, melancholy summer rains. But most of all, I miss the travel and delicious, swirling, excesses that form the dark side of long holiday freedoms.

I’ve been called excessive, I accept that and I have to check that aspect of my nature, from time to time.
“Don’t you have any brakes?” My roommate Leong once asked me, like I was some runaway train.

I remember last summer, how we almost eased into fall. As summer had faded, things changed and slowed down, as the European students turned back to their serious, ordinary lives. The bars and streets became deserted, carousels stopped spinning, arcade games were turned off, yachts sailed away, the eager summer wait-staff vanished from the elegant hotels. Brightly lit, summer-gaudy Saint Tropez became just another faded seaside town, where the paint everywhere suddenly seemed chipped and cheap.

This year, we sped up, by spending the last couple of weeks in flashy, frantic, fluorescent Manhattan - oh, man.

Then BOOM, we were dropped, as if from a great height, back into university life, back to cafeteria lines, shuttle buses and the scholastic gridiron - which oddly enough, has a lot in common with the teenage world. It was going from a-hundred-mile-an-hour adult freedom, to dealing with all the old teenage issues, like homework, tests, studying, the endless clock-watch scheduling of to and from classes - you know, the physicality of academics.

It sounds rough, I know. We’ve been told that as seniors, we can expect an even more important and frenetic emphasis on social life. Yep, we’ll be stepping things up to a whole new level this year!
Woot!! Maybe I’ll even get to wear some makeup!
.
.
A song for this:
September by Earth Wind & Fire

When I was younger, it all seemed like play,
I bit my own tongue without knowing the way.
Tarnished my name, got caught in the mess,
Too busy chasing honey to notice the stress.

Chasing the sweet, I missed the bitter bite,
Blind to the venom hiding in plain sight.
In cold moments, I feel the regret,
The honey I chased, the venom I let.

loving you was like surfing in a wave,
Its smooth movements guided me through the ocean
and the salt kissed my skin,
I became one with the water and with the wind,
the ocean became my home, and I loved it so dearly,
the sun beat me on my skin, and I was in my own little utopia,
but the sun became blistering, my skin bubbled in agony, and I cried at the injury,
the salt danced its way into the wounds and guided its painful path across my body until it reached my throat, suppressing my chokes and coaxed my voice into the abyss,
the water became violent. It no longer ran along me in light streams but rather,
it strangled me and repressed my screams,
loving you was like surfing, unexpectedly disturbing. You were so amazing and wonderful. You could be the light of my life and the one to knock my lights out,
it was either the sun was blazing, or the sun never came,
the ocean was either barren or it was dragging itself in harsh motions
the salt was either refreshing or so heavy my lungs teemed with sea salt, and I no longer had the capacity to cry; I couldn’t.
loving you...loving you was like surfing, but next time I see the ocean, I’ll take a boat instead.

when i skipped in the street
and you blinked your flashlight fifteen times at me
my high beams bursting through the windows of the neighbors,
i started to feel like she wrote those songs for us
and for our teenage recklessness.
can you teach me how to stay,
how to sit still and just love
with no shame and no repercussions?
because how are you so close in my rearview mirror
and then so much farther than you appear?
i would’ve cranked the heater, the same for you
the same simple cares
that you bestowed on
someone as wretched as me.
i would’ve called you my favorite person,
denying your insecurities and making them seem insignificant,
just as you had.
i would’ve laid in your lap retrieving my phone
as we laugh with our entire stomachs
and your friend says there must be something between us;
how does that make you feel?
i would’ve said it was finally time to go if i saw you sleeping,
almost too tired to drive home.
i would’ve asked you to drive safely for fear of deer around,
the same as you had.
i would’ve invited you to my cracking house,
just as you did,
answering the doorbell and smiling,
“you can take your shoes off”

“i love you as you are”