Tag Archives: teenager

Slipping

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I’ve been off, lately. You wouldn’t say, if you didn’t know me. No one really noticed much.

At school, I’m as good as ever, even more sociable than before. I have good grades, I have friends, I have teachers who like me. I do my work, I answer, I read. But I don’t feel it there anymore.

Out, I am fun to hang around it. I hear it often, because my girlfriends call me every weekend. I’m the one they like to get drunk with. I am the one they want to go out to dance with, because when I go out, I’m almost the old me again. I shout a little too loud, I’m excited a bit too much, I take way too many pictures and I laugh with all my heart. I sing along to the music, but this time around, I look at my best friend with a smile playing on my mouth and pain in my eyes. She knows. She understands. This time, the lyrics break my heart, little by little, while I try to keep dancing to the beat. It’s all fun, because it goes away for a few hours, that annoying feeling in my chest. I’m excited again, about nothing in particular, but I am. And yet… I don’t feel it there anymore.

At home, my mom got the hang of it. I am writing again and being silent again. I write and read and write and read and do homework due for the next semester till late hours in the night. I draw mindlessly, constantly listening to a band she knows too well. I smile and I sit next to her when she watches her series and I hope she doesn’t notice. But tonight she told me I should live in the present and I understood she understood. It’s the words I can’t pay attention to anymore, it’s the lingering, the staring, the waiting, the nervousness, the always talking about the same subject, the nonchalance I play so badly. It’s the constant going out, the nervous eating, the always finding something to do. The constant talking about the future or about the past, as if I’m living there.

And yet, I still count days and hope for a brighter moment in the here and now.

 

Letter to a friend’s friend

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Dear friend of a friend,

you probably don’t recall this, but I do. We’ve had a little chat a while ago. While you probably went home right afterwards with your earplugs in your ears and your mind far away, I didn’t forget the things you’ve said. I didn’t  because in a matter of minutes you messed up all my principles and you took everything I believe in and mocked it with a dumb smile on your face. So I had to rethink my attitude a bit, worried that I might have been wrong all my life. Thinking that I was a fool. You looked at me, no doubt, as one looks at a naive child, who still has to learn about this cruel, cruel world he is about to step in.

You took all my friends and generalised. I hate generalisations. How dare you say everyone is bad at their chore? Oh, that’s not what you meant? You called me inferior, even if you talked it smoothly, with your foreign expressions, but, no worries, the mocking glance looks the same on everyone’s face, no matter how ‘well-bred’ they are. I don’t know what you read when you were little, I don’t know what you believe in, I don’t know what keeps you moving through your life and I don’t know about the things you dream at night. But now, you’ve made me curious, because whatever it is, I never want to have any of that. I will refuse to believe, no matter how old I will get and regardless of the tears that will try to drown me, I will refuse to believe even for one second that this world is, in its chore bad. I can’t believe. I refuse to look cynical at everyone I encounter, only because they might look at me the same way. I will defend to death the beauty of my world, because I fell in love with it before I even got here. Don’t you tell me people are perverse, because I will throw in your face a thousand struggling kids, good kids, who still get flowers for their mothers and a thousand artists, who still get inspired, every day, by the beauty of it all. I will point out for you thousands of people who stay together, every day, only because they got addicted to each other’s smiles. Don’t you tell me you’re nothing without a plan at twenty. Twenty is the age of no plans, didn’t they tell you that? Twenty is the age for love and laughs and learning, yes, but they don’t work separately, my friend’s friend. Don’t you tell me my friends will laugh at me behind my back, because you know nothing about them. What do you know about our sleepless nights and long hours discussing the stars? I bet there’s no place in your timetable for magic and what a shame that is. You have so much time to be cynical. You have so much time to be bitter, don’t waste your twenties. Don’t spend your precious time judging everyone around you, because you’ll waste it. And then, no wonder you haven’t got a second in your day to admire a flower or read a beautiful quote or merely think about how something made you feel.

You live so fast. You tried to convince me I am a majority, when I already know I’m not. You tried to convince me that the nights I spend dancing and laughing are going to damage me, but you had lost me before finishing that foolish idea, because I was already remembering that beautiful night that turned too quickly to daylight. You even tried to take my books and convince me that knowing statistics is far more useful, but by then I was already thinking that a story waits me at home, that my characters are waiting for me to define their journey.

So, my friend’s friend, the next time we meet, let’s just agree to disagree. If you want to keep your black and white perspective, by all means do, but don’t share your glasses with me, because I don’t need them. I don’t need your negativity, because my mother put flowers in my hair when I was a little girl and I’ve felt like a princess over a beautifully coloured world ever since. Call me an optimist with that dumb smile of yours and you’ll make me the biggest compliment. I won’t waste any of my time being cynical. You do that and let me be the irrational one. Let me feel too deep, let me experience more happiness and more pain than you’ll ever know. I take that, I take it with all my heart.

 

 

P.S. Next time, you should spend more time looking at the beautiful girls that were passing by, rather than argue with me. Or is that only the habit of ‘disgusting perverts’? I wouldn’t know, I’ve never denied myself the presence of beauty.

Sprite fills in for Vodka.

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Yesterday night I went to a high school prom. All around me I could see teenagers smoking, drinking, dancing. I was so bored the half of the party. I considered many times to call my dad to take me home, but my best friend wanted to stay.
Now, you have to understand that I hate crowds and that I am a little claustrophobic. A little more. So there I was in a crowd of hundreds of drunken teenagers, fearing for my life. ( not really, but…). Half the time I would look at everyone and judge all the kids there.
God, you are so stupid. I want to go home. What am I doing here? I shouldn’t be here. I want to stay on tumblr.
I couldn’t have a drink, because my stomach is a stupid fuck, so all i could drink was one Sprite. However, I am so glad I stayed.
Because the second half was amazing. A guy I adore sang and I got an autograph and a kiss and I was front row at the next band that performed.

A good start for a weekend, right? Stay tuned, and later I’ll come up with ideas how to spend a fun weekend 🙂

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Thinking

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I have been thinking. About lots of stuff, the truth is. Life, death, love and hate. Debated them hundreds of times in my mind. I was encouraged to know I’m not the only one in seek on answers to some unasked questions. So I turned to music and books. Truth is recently I’m more fond of music than people. Some may find it silly, but I’d rather walk home listening to my playlist than having a non sense conversation with people I have no interest in. Music opened a new gate of my soul. I’ve found songs that reach so deep in my heart and that give me power to move on with my life. It’s incredible how many feelings music can create… That deep sorrow, the smile, melancholic smile or just a frown. I know that “All you need is love” , I’ve learnt that it’s painful to say “Goodbye my lover” and whenever I’m sad I can just ” Blame it on the girls “. So, by that I just wanted to say a BIG thank you to whom ever touched a piano, a guitar, or composed a song, THANK YOU. For inspiring me day by day. You are wonderful. Good night.

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Unique

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Today we’ve been asked in school what we think when we hear “teenager” . I’ve heard answers like “adventure” and “trying new experiences”. When someone said shyness, they all disagreed, and strangely it’s the one I agreed most with. How else is it called when you are afraid to even talk to a stranger. I am fully aware there are outgoing persons out there. Then I questioned myself, maybe it’s me the wrong and strange one and not them. They have circles of friends that think like them, I have 1. But I’m happy. Cause you know what. This one or two best friends I’ve got, their the friends. They know everything there is to know. We know when ” sure” means “no way” when “I could come..” means ” I’m dying to come” . And I love them. Cheers to them!

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