In my tenth grade English class, we read Fahrenheit 451, and we were asked to answer this question: how did Ray Bradbury's predictions hold up? It was an intentionally broad question that once stumped me.
There's a grapefruit Spindrift on the kitchen island where I’m sitting. The digital clock at the top of my Mac Book Air screen reads 9:16 p.m.
I am someone who is waiting on a dock in the middle of the night. There is a gross, green electric light shining on me. There is something out in the waves.
I drink soda probably way too much. It's sitting here beside me in the car, full to the top of the Pepsi symbol, and the condensation is making the cup-holder damp. DN24, the light post says in front of the car. R6.
I have been feeling like I am even more different then normal because of my math teacher that I have. When I ask for something that I need to do well in school even though we are done with class and are waiting for the next class to be ready.
I’m still stuck in the same grade, with the same people, doing the same thing. I’m ready to expand like steam filling a room, like water gushing from a spigot and into a basin. I’m ready to float, or maybe sink.
“Doomsday” by Lizzy McAlpine is one of the few songs I can listen to all the time because its theme about the inevitability of a relationship ending speaks to me.
I live for these moments.
Moments that make you forget anything but remember everything all at once.
I wish I could tell you this is poetry;
Imperfect but acceptable, art, expression, understanding, the solution to some question i could not answer otherwise,
Being a teen is like standing at the very edge of a tall cliff. One wrong move and it all crumbles; one wrong dress, one wrong word, one wrong love and you're over.
In the past, the greatest people in history were known for changing the world for the better.