I wonder what I'm going to write here, what it'll turn into. It's strange just writing from my mind but I seem to be doing it. It's so dark outside now, and it gets dark so early. I still miss summer. I miss camp and everyone from there. I hope I see them all again. There are 250 days until I return, 240 days until school ends. I'm excited, but I don't want to rush things like that. I don't want the school year to end. It's hard typing up my thoughts like this, they come in so quickly then more come in as I type them. I guess after this I'll turn on a Spotify playlist and then read for a few hours until I go to bed. Tomorrow is a Wednesday. We're almost halfway through the school week. I'm glad. I like school but it's so tiring...waking up at six and everything. I'm so glad I get to sleep in a few hours, I'm exhausted. Ok, wow, I've actually written a lot. Ugh, I hate math. It's the worst class. By writing this I'm realizing how uninteresting my thoughts are. Like they're only interesting when I put my mind to it, which I'm not doing! I'm so glad I've done all my homework. I guess I'm not gonna finish the episode I started, though. Well, maybe I'll finish on Friday. We're picking electives on Thursday! Unfortunately, my homeroom's going last, but still. I also hate PE. It's just terrible and should not exist. For some reason this is strangely hard to write, let me take a break to stretch my putty and think about what to write next. Ugh, I'm so boooorrrreeddd and this is definitely not good writing. In fact, it's just a lot of unrelated sentences mashed together. Well, whatever. That's what thoughts are like, I guess.
Random Thoughts II
More by star
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Forever Hold Her Peace
inspired by "Roselily" by Alice Walker
Someone has painted smog across the sky
And made her hands soft–
No more sewing needles or thorny flowers
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October 20th
There is nothing like the floating feeling of trying to do pilates in socks and listening to Cigarettes After Sex as your knees scrape against the carpeted floor and the almost-black almost-night clings to the windows.
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i'll laugh at this someday
"I have a feeling, a terrible fear encroaching
That I'll never love a boy
The way I love the ocean."
-Maya Hawke, "To Love a Boy"
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