The sun's setting and I have to go back but none of it feels real, it's never-ending; the longest never-ending I will ever have. It can't be 3 days left, I wanna do it all over again and not even do any of it differently. It was lots of extended lows punctured by soring highs. Sitting in the house. Internet. Have I got depression? I haven't when I'm too caught up to think about it, but maybe thats how it is for everyone.
Maybe I'm so young such a short time can change me; haven't spoken to you in what, 13 weeks? Maybe you won't even recognize me. But I can't start new. New institution, same people. Education never changes. It hasn't even started yet and I've already planned out the ending. And what comes after as well. But I don't know; my future is confusing. Would be worse if it wasn't. This way the road has lots of surprises. Not sure if I want any of them tho; I'm boring like that. At least I think I am, but I wouldn't want anyone to know that I am. But maybe they think I am anyway, which is why I spend so long trying to change that. I'm not a cool enough personality to be proudly uncool. I'll keep trying, dammit!
And I do all this stuff. Anything I do that looks from the outside like a fulfilling life is counted as stuff. Anything social; because that's the high that penetrates the low. I go to the beach. It's all good, every situation I'm in is easier to live than it is to think about. Even the bad stuff. I'm home and I got sun burn; sizzling up my skin; good excuse not to go out tho. It takes me a week to recover. Screaming like Kanye West on Yeezus; but much more high pitched, I think I scared my dog; and I wouldn't do it if my parents were around. Kill me now; worst pain I ever felt. So bad I couldn't even think; and that's one of my hobbies. I could think about the pain; and think about making deals with the devil. He'd take the pain away and I'd do some evil in return. One of those spooky realizations when it came naturally to me. But it ended after a week. One of those experiences I wouldn't change but definitely wouldn't re-live. I'd give you all my prized possessions; maybe that would help me.
And I end it all at a party. It wasn't even to celebrate the summer ending. Drunk: my body goes tipsy and swerve-y and I'd only describe it as being more free in retrospective, and the voice in my head goes drunk too. And I start to say all those things I'd usually just think about. Actually I probably wouldn't even think things those things, but I talk and talk, it's easier drunk. It's not the confidence it's the ability to forget your normal codes of conversation and join into a communal code. And all the none drunks just look at you, but even if there was just one of us they'd still be the outsiders. It's the beer: it's the right way to be. Before I'd say my first drunk experience was good research, but it was far too fun to be research, and how can something that is actual life help with all these made up things in our artist brains? And I kissed a girl for the first time, but that's private isn't it? A tongue swerving around in my mouth; it's beautiful, and so was she but I still had to clarify her name with someone the next day. And I wake up, actually no; continue consciousness: damn fucking wooden floor, and I think everyone there hates me. It's just the lads there and were all having fun and laughing; it must be all in my head; but the alcohol's already outta there. But so what, nevermind. I walk out of there with a friend and go back to society and join into the stream. But that nights still with me, and my mind's still drunk, still feels a little the day after too, even if my body's fine now.
And now I go back in a few days. But it's been a good summer. And the bad times and good times don't matter cause it's all one big thing. But the good times do matter because I wanna have them with me and they make me have more. And I think the bad times matter too, even though I didn't learn anything from them anyway. Ah well, nevermind.
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