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I haven't just stopped and thought about things lately. About the things that are aroud me, and reverberating inside me. The thoughts-that I've told myself not to think about, and were overcome by the feelings of not wanting to stop and think about them. Will they overflow? I am long overdue. Long overdue.

College is strange. It's not quite like highschool, it is its own improsonment. Highschool is a bubble. It's own bubble, it's own world, thoughts and feelings that you can only foolishly think to understand when you're trapped inside. Nothing in highschool prepares you for the next step. It's like plunging into murky, dark pools of mystery and uncertanty. What you believed, and what people wanted you to think cannot give you the least bit of forewarning. It is truly an experience that must be struggled through and lived through-and more struggling when your thoughts seem to pool aorund you.

These thoughts, these words and my breath. Who are these people, and what are their thoughts on the matter? Am I the only one who sees this so strange? I hadn't truly stopped and thought about what I was doing and getting myself into. Yes, it's almost like highschool, but not. You have all the responsibilities, you manage your own time that slips between your fingers without warning. You make mistakes, and pay for them. You choose to get up in the morning even when your eyes won't open. The simple pleasures of family in your home are fleeting. When you had once yearned to leave, all you can think about is that sense of security. Truly, really, thoughtfully, I hate responsibility. I would much rather giving someone else the reins. That's selfish, to ask someone else to guide your destiny. But I do not recall ever asking for much freedom. All the more, I ask for time. Time to sit and enjoy-time to relax, time to think about things and then lose those thoughts to nothingness, time to float in the pool, time to dream and time to sleep.

Time-
endless. empty.
Time.

So many things have happened. Maybe I am only dwelling because my heart beats and my eyes blink wearily, blearily, unseemingly and unthinkibly. Will the world ever stop spinning? Not the whole world, not even another person, but my own world. It spings, and it keeps going even when I don't want to. I can't catch the tide, I resist, struggle, flail and choke against it when I would be better off riding along it, flowing with it. I realize my faults, I realize that each morn I must wake, even in bitterness. I do tire of sing-song voices that try to coax me from slumber. I know the world will keep breathing. Poeple will go on like I never was needed when I leave. The room won't feel less empty without me. And yet for myself, it is necessary to be here. Ironic, but realistic.

College is a strange thing, and it is another bubble. I go to school, I work, I sleep... I repeat this seemingly unending cycle until it indeed comes to an end, and then leads to another beginning. That is life. And I hate "life is a circle..." narratives. This expression is overused, and done so to the point where it begins to lose its meaningness. Why can't life be a square? You think you're getting somewhere, and then you hit a block in the road. Just when you overcome it and you think you're getting somewhere, you hit another block in the road. That sounds more realistic, but in the same sense it is unending. How about that for originality?

What is original anymore? And am I just typing to hear my own thoughts that are rattling against my mind? I believe so. I do not understand the tone of voice I've taken on. Maybe it's her, or, me rather. And what will you think when you read them? I'm sure you could tell the faint transition between them;us.

So let the sunshine in, and unclutter the atic in your heart. Write, talk, rant, chatter, scream, grunt, groan, giggle, whisper.... speak.

Speak
and never know the answer