Once again, I’m sorry for not having regular posts, but I’ve been terribly busy. Finals week is here and I’ve already been stressed out to the point where I’ve finished an entire bag of Cheese Puffs. I don’t normally eat Cheese Puffs.
Anyways, I thought I would leave you all with a piece I wrote called “This is What Growing Up Feels Like”. I hope you like it and I don’t want to make any empty promises, so I’ll just leave it here.
This is what growing up feels like – a solid thump in your chest, but nothing resides. Faces past by you, flushed from excitement, their eyes wide and empty. Things to do, places to go and no time to stop even for a drink. All that resonates in your head are songs you used to sing when you were thirteen. Songs about heartbreak, song about loving again and songs about terrible misunderstandings, yet you have only had a glimpse. When you hear those songs echoing in your head, all you want to do is nod along because of how true they are. This is what growing up feels like. Teenager angst no longer exists, but it is replaced with depression. There is a fear for sadness because you sink in and you can’t pull yourself out. You sink in and you look up for hands, but you feel your own hands, immersed. There is an aesthetic for sadness because more people will come to you if you cry loud enough, if you scream loud enough, if you moan load enough. You sink in and it feels nice. You sink in and you want out, but you also want to continue on. This is what growing up feels like. It is also what giving up feels like. I don’t give a fuck. I give a fuck. I want love. I want someone’s arms around me and a gentle whisper of how they don’t want anything to change. I want someone to hold my hands and I’ll feel their warmth in my soul and it will feel so good. I want someone to kiss me and I’ll feel my face blush because I’ve finally achieved it. There is always a constant longing for something we can’t have – something that it is not something that we should strive for, something that our focus shouldn’t be directed towards. This is what growing up feels like. The fact that I am an angsty fourteen year old with hatred towards everything or the fact that I am a twenty five year old with experiences beyond a nineteen year old despite only six years. Nothing fazes me and nothing will hurt me anymore. I’ll just deal with it. I am a four year old and all I want is pure affection even though that doesn’t exist.
This is what growing up feels like: an aesthetic between pain, feeling and just wanting to fade away.