The finest hour has faded
11:20am, Tuesday. Day two of what I am concluding the worst week of 11th grade up to this point.
Wondering if it's too late to pull out of the dance company on the basis of lack of talent, technique, or rhythm.
Contemplating the dim concept that there is infact nothing on this holy planet given to us by a God i no longer believe in, that I'm good at.
What a bleak day. Fall's come a day too early, it is infact scheduled for September 21st. My pants are soaked through, my ankles are starting to creak.
One academic class left, Chemistry, the rest of the day filled with free tracks.
Shoot me now. strike me down. sharpen your blades. i want out of this awful place...two more years, apparently not a long time. seems longer when every class makes you feel stupid.
Wondering if it's too late to pull out of the dance company on the basis of lack of talent, technique, or rhythm.
Contemplating the dim concept that there is infact nothing on this holy planet given to us by a God i no longer believe in, that I'm good at.
What a bleak day. Fall's come a day too early, it is infact scheduled for September 21st. My pants are soaked through, my ankles are starting to creak.
One academic class left, Chemistry, the rest of the day filled with free tracks.
Shoot me now. strike me down. sharpen your blades. i want out of this awful place...two more years, apparently not a long time. seems longer when every class makes you feel stupid.
1 Comments:
oh man do i know where youre coming from. i wish, just once, that i could excel in SOMETHING. i always feel so goddamn mediocre. i hate it, but i love you
vera
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