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I gotta feeling... That tonights gunna be a good night! |
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The summer is comming to a close... already ;-;
When I make that teary face, I mean that I'm sad to be leaving behind the sweet sentamentality... is that a word? Anyways, the sweet sentamentality and carefree lathargicness of the warm breeze stirring though your small, weak fram, that makes you feel so humble to the simple bits of grass between bare toes. I suppose I'm being melodramatic. But you know what I mean?
When I look out the windows spaced about my house, I always look up. I look at the green leaves swirling about the of trees, the sun shineing through their thin vains. I'll miss the dry feeling of the heat burring itself in my hair, and hitting my collar bone, tanning my skin and making it shimmer. I'll miss the painting-esk look of the clouds sitting up in the ocean of a blue sky, tinted pink, orange, yellow and red by the setting sun as the day comes to a close. I'll miss the smell of rain on grass, and the feeling as it sticks to my skin, even through a rain jacket. I'll miss the smell of fresh soil as I hunt through the nursery and find new plants to plant and watch the deer eat, even if they are not supposed to.
But I will not be entirely sad. Nay! I will be joyus. Time to welcome highschool into our life! These are the days that count, apparently. I must be willing to welcome the cool fall, to start layering my tanktops, and wearing sleeves. The sun tan I accidently obtained from my biking and playing will faid, and a chalky white will paste itself over my body, and there will be no more odd swimsuit lines. I will meet new people. They will understand me better then I thought my first friends did. I will learn, not only by sitting in a desk, but by being with new people. People who can not tell the difference between right and wrong. I will hold all the things that will assist my learning either on my back or on my hip, and when I reach for a pen, I feel the little glow nestled in my heart that I get to pick it up, and express myself on something that will not faid eaisly; on paper. I will color code things, make them fun and intresting. I will get carried away, and miss the point and have to drag myself back to the class, back to the note being pushed under my open binder, asking odd, funny questions. Questions that my teacher cannot see. I scribble something back, and return it fast. The conversation is not important, but the dirty pleasure of doing something behind such a high persons back is unserpassable. You cannot stop; an addiction. And as we work our way quickly into the year, the snow will come, and it will cover everything in a blanket that wont ever warm. Walking up a hill will be a tedious task, and I will not welcome it. Yet, I must if I am to make something of myself. We will freeze and then sweat in class as we try to keep ourselves comfortable in the fermilure-growing building. We will shuffle around and try to keep our joins from freezing. The teachers have their own ways of going about keeping themselves happy. It never works with the rest of the class. The days wear on still, and hollidays will bring on a meloncholly to the school, and we will celebrate in unique ways, and feel odd romance between eachother. Eventually we get back into school. The break was not like summer, but it was welcome. People will travel to warm areas, sick of the snow and bring back gifts for the people they care about. We will work our way back into a scedual, and it will be hard, but the teachers say that school will come to a close sooner then later.
Eventually the spring comes. Winter rears its head for fun a few times before letting the grass grow. Everyone is once again distracted by the sun out the windows, even if it really isn' that warm, and we will loose focous, pull it together for finals, and be let go again.
And so then the summer will start, and the process will begin again.
I am scared of this process ending. I know it too well. But becoming an adult is not all I grew up thinking it was cut out to be. I will have to work, I will loose my jobs, or get better and leave them behind my choice. I might fail. I am scared of fail. Its not anything to be proud of, yet as a teenager we make it sound like a good thing anyway. We try to comfort ourselves with a false smile to cover the shame. But eventually, from all our fail, will come sucess. It might take forever, but I will become better. I will suceed.
I don't want to leave behind the summer, but there is no way to stop it. I will get older, and I will face it day by day. I will be sad to leave things behind, and I will be happy to bring in something new. I have to be.
 Maco-chan · Thu Aug 27, 2009 @ 07:44pm · 2 Comments |
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