xo13julia33xo
I'm afraid of college. As much as I want to run towards it, it seems as if my heart or my head or my something is constantly pulling me in the opposite direction. I'm afraid of change, of everything being new and different. Of me being the new and the different instead of the old and the confident. New beginnings are so bittersweet.
Sometimes things are easy, like science, straightforward and simple and logical. Make that rarely. I wish things were like that all of the time, sometimes. But then I have to remind myself of the other half of science. Of its beauty, of its unpredictability and of its truth. Of facing conclusions we don't always want to face and admitting that we were wrong and that it's okay to be wrong sometimes.
Saturday, maybe things will be different. Maybe I'll wake up today again and last night will have been a dream. Simply my unconsciousness developing new and devious ways to tortue my consciousness, with stories of friends falling in love and me simply not.
Plant a seed, plant a piece of hope. When you spread yourself out among others like the many branches of the tree, be sure to spread seeds of hope rather than seeds of destruction, or even worse, than nothing.
I try not to dwell on things, but then what always seems to happen is because I try not to, I do even more. Reverse psychology at its finest, wouldn't you agree? It's why we fall when we cling to our individuality and why that stupid smile always manages to spread across my face despite my clenched lips when I see how brightly the stars shine in your eyes.
A minute can be infinite or infinitesimal. It can be the world or it can be nothing. With a minute, you can save a life or take one away. Minutes may seem small but minutes turn into hours, which turn into days, which turn into months, which turn into years, which turn into lifetimes. Waste not, want not. So don't you dare tell me that I wasted my years trying so hard when all I had were minutes.
Fractures are small. So small that you barely notice them. Perhaps that's why you barely notice me when I get up the courage to slip you a smile or glance at you from across the room and pray that you're not looking at me. That's all I am- many fractures stitched together with a wish on a star that I won't fall apart and slip through the cracks that are me.
There are so many persons on earth. I mean, when you think people you think of the ones you know. But really, there's a number so vast that it really seems infinite. To think that there are billions and billions of people you will never meet who exist, who are alive in this moment. Isn't it incredible? You never really think about the persons you miss out on meeting. You just think about the ones you know and it's such a sad shame.
The pits, that rock bottomy place. That's where I am right now, or at least that's what it feels like. It's summer, I'm supposed to be spitting out cherry pits and looking at gross sweaty armpits, not feeling like this, not feeling like I am the pits.
Right?
He looked at her with keen eyes. They were full of something-not the kind of something you read about in romance novels or the kind of something that you hear about from mothers and grandmothers. It was a special kind of something. She couldn't describe it exactly, but it was a kind of something that made her feel safe.
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writing since 2011 · 70 entries · 69 days shown up
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