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small brown crinckling paper lunch bags |
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| Written by Diana, on 08-07-2002 07:38 |
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July 8, 2002 (6:38am)
School's suddenly back, yelling at me to straighten up, to pull it together or go down hard. only one week to decide if I'll survive this torture or I'm forced to be in for the long haul. even planning fall courses i find i get a little excited but it's hard to stay that way when you're hyperventilating, gasping for restricted breaths from small brown crinckling paper lunch bags that used to mean peanut butter sandwiches and brownies, when life was simpler and all I had to fear was my chocolate milk getting warm before the lunch bell rang. quadruple knotted safety ropes fray, i fear this weight-full body i'm forced to tote around is too much for it to carry. wanting to wear weather appropriate short sleeve skater t's if not for bright red blood filled lascerations i'd prefer not to be my trademark so early in the program. although they're suttle reminders of how hard things have been, they're also bright red screams of agony and defeat to those who don't understand the craft. it seemed I wanted this once, this attention to detail required to notice something's wrong. in days of caffeine induced tremors and super long golden wavey locks the scars on the outside are only an inconvenience. something reminding me I'm ill, and after all they tell me about people and society, my worst fears come true. looking over my shoulder every once in a while no longer seems paranoid but rather necessary to sustain life. and although I haven't cared to sustain any sort of rational existence in the past, it seems almost necessary these days to keep on fighting. even when wellness seems a distant memory, there's more to life than suffering endlessly, I just can't seem to find the perks of leading this faltered and vulnerable existance, possibly my one great enemy when attempting to reach for one that was rightfully mine.
Last update: 08-07-2002 07:38
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