It has been a long time since I have been on here, yet there is a nostalgia that dances around these fonts.
I wish I had more people that had seen me on here, I wish I had people to tell how hard I have tried.
I am 19 now. In a few months I turn 20.
I am on my last leg, last string, last stilt of adolescence.
Yet, it feels like I have done nothing.
I see all these close connections other people have, all these good days, all these forms of self-expression others have.
Things that grew over time, repaired relationships with parents, hope, and human spirit.
Does belongingness equate with direction? Have we commodified love?
I wish I could say that things were different, that I got through it all.
However, it is all the same but just a different font.
I think if I left quietly, slipped away into the night, never looked back to avoid having my face identified.
Of course, everyone would worry for a few months, but as my mother says — everyone has to keep moving on with their lives.
Sometimes I believe the emotional ancestry of mankind has been built off of people that tried so hard to never look back.
Therefore, there exists a collective of melancholics that if you stare into real hard, you can almost see how beautiful others look from their perception.
Am I free or am I lonely?
Is it better to be no one yet everyone at the same time.
All I have ever wanted was to be known, but as I grow up I realize the things we want the most almost end up never happening if not in the most unconventional way possible.
