Trying to keep my eyes wide in this small town. But I like to think it’s not as bad as I make it sound sometimes. I’m 15 years old, and I’ve seen quite a lot. I’m 15 years old, and I haven’t seen enough. I just want to learn something new every day. I want to take pictures that people will look at and smile. I want to write things that people can relate to. I want to travel all over the world and spend all my pocket money. I want to get lost and not really worry about where I’m going or where I came from. I want to be careless. But the truth is, I’m not careless at all, and I worry too much. I want to know why I can only think of these things at 5:30 in the morning.
This is for the people that remind us to show compassion, common courtesy, and respect. I’ve heard a lot of “Those who criticize our generation forget who raised it” lately. And I’m not going to say that it’s a lie, but I don’t think it’s completely true either. Sure, our guardians, our parents, our elders, they did raise us. However, WE are the ones making the choices, WE are the ones who choose whether we listen to authority or not. This does not apply to everyone. My parents taught me manners, they scolded me when I did something they did not approve of, and they showed me how to think about other people. And sometimes, I forget. When I forget, or choose not to follow along with what I was taught, it is MY doing. This generation, for the most part, has forgotten to respect, love, and worry about each other. That is what makes us the way we are. Don’t forget, and thank someone that taught you what you genuinely needed to know.
I needed your constant attention. Your kind, but empty words. The words that gave me confidence, that comforted me when I was down. The words that tore me to pieces. Now, all you are is burned into my brain and branded onto my heart forever. I know I can’t try to go back or change what happened, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a little closure. Maybe even an “I’m sorry” would do, maybe it wouldnt. I know you can see me hurting and you know the blame is on you, I can tell by the way you look at me when you walk by. Perhaps those looks are due to my pleading eyes, begging and begging for you to please do something about this.
Insomnia sets in at times like this. For once things are starting to be okay, but my body is revolting against me. It insists that something should be wrong, because it has been used to uneasiness for so long. Maybe its just this aching, burning feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I just can’t figure out what its there for. At least the night is a good time to get in some inspiration. I’ve been telling myself that thinking is the number one enemy of dreaming, now I realize that is more true than I let myself believe sometimes. Sometimes I wish I could turn off my thoughts.
I haven’t really just been home for one day in weeks. I haven’t gotten any sleep, I haven’t gotten to draw or read or do any of the things I’d really like to do. All I want is for life to slow down just a little bit, but it doesn’t seem to want to. I have rehearsals for Once Upon A Mattress three days a week, not to mention all the other things I have to get done throughout the week. I love these things, but I hate how they swallow up all my time. My mind is in a different place most of the time, so I don’t learn much at school. I am still a good student, I just don’t feel as though I’m learning anything. My mind is too uneasy for sleep by the time I get home. I can’t stand the expectations that are put on my daily, not by myself, but by others. There are so many things everyone really wants for me to do, and I know they mean no harm, but this is leaving me with no time for myself. I don’t understand, most people love to be busy.
