(Ed. Note: Being a teenager makes you look stupid, but it happens. I am past this.)
I try to accomplish all that I can before I have to fall asleep again.
A desperate struggle against distractions.
My routine broken, a new light shines through
You are the sun and the moon and the stars
Why? That is an essential question isn’t it? My hands fumble but will find the key. And the lock and the twist and the turn. Why is it that whenever I stare at a blinking cursor, when it begs me to pound out something, I am always compelled to type, “Why?”
I don’t care enough
I don’t have enough leadership activities, no community service. I am not special.
I think I will win every contest I enter. I don’t.
The crisis that needs resolving. The flaw that must be addressed. The tragedy that flows just beneath the surface, far enough to ignore it but not far enough to not effect anything. My aren’t they coming out sloppy tonight? I cannot play this keyboard.
Just because.
I don’t belong here.
I am not special.
I am twitching nervously.
I am not following the conventions of E-prime.
Whatever,
Pop culture sweep these dangerous thoughts from my head.
Dangerous snippets of lyrics running the gauntlet in my head.
But why why the fuck why?
You can’t answer yourself. My scales need some practice. Heroes and villians, cliches and typos running hand in hand through the forest and happy smiling disney animals singing.
"Jmhmj,n n," a fist pounds the keyboard
How can I be expected to work in the face of existential angst? How can I be expected to translate my head into any communicable language? My dreams, my hopes, not scratch that. All of humanity’s hopes and dreams. I want them to come true. I want to write about Aleph in the Sadlands or whatsoever appropriate name. Why do I confuse p and b? What happens if we get nothing but thin envelopes? Will we sit there on the hill and cry like babies over our lost dreams, the one thing we’ve made in our few short years only to be smashed to bits? Those that have given up on their dreams will only discourage yours. Fuck it all. How can I be happy again? Why does this always happen sooner every Sunday night?!?!?!?!?!?!?! And I don’t even have physics homework tonight!
AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!