getaway

  

   
sometimes the urge to leave is so strong. like, i itch for it; to drive past my house and keep going, going, going…without looking back.

i’m just so tired of staying here, of trying to fight through each day when running away would be easier, so, so much easier. 

i don’t want to fight. i don’t want to keep trying with nothing to show for it. i’m constantly critized, told that everything i do is wrong, that everything about me is wrong.

i just want to get away.

i just want a fresh start.

is that too much to ask?

getaway

Fiction: Undoing by Kim Magowan

JMWW

Reasons to do it:

To get you out of my system. Because the reality of you can never match the fantasy– no matter how great you are, how skillful, how tender your touch, how inventive your sweet talk. So possessing you will take away your power. That’s why I need to see your body: naked, real, unglorious. So I won’t want it. Cure by poison.

Or, carpe diem, et cetera. Life is short, right? In two years I turn forty. Soon my life will be too unwieldy to fling (like an anarchist in a cartoon, throwing a dynamite stick) into the fire.

Grist for the mill. I need to think of you as a research project: this is a collection of information, like leaves from a nature walk, like specimens from the moon. I will observe you closely: the hair on your shins, the texture of your armpits, the…

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Fiction: Undoing by Kim Magowan

teenagers

teenager (n): 1. a person between 13 and 19 years old. 2. of, being, or relating to people in their teens.

or, in other words, the most misunderstood people in the human race.

we, as teenagers, have to meet such high expectations and act like adults while being treated like children. we are the generation who ‘cause’ the most damage and are considered disrespectful in today’s society.

the thing is, none of the adults want to admit that they played a hand in our making. they don’t want to be the ones at fault; so they blame social media, our music, our style.

what they don’t understand is that we are unique; we are the only ones with our feet in both worlds. a part of us is child like; we still love water gun fights, video games and disney movies, but the other part of us is responsible, and witty, and clever, but no one else ever wants to see that.

so here we are, at the age where we are expected to know what college we want to go to and what job we want to have for the rest of our life when we don’t even know who we are. and then we get punished when we try to find ourselves and ridiculed when we decide to do something that isn’t practical.

we are told to be ourselves, but only in the way society sees as acceptable.

they can’t see that we can actually do a lot of good, but because all they expect to see in us is the bad, that is all they’ll ever see. no teenager will ever try to make a difference if they are only scorned or ignored.

and why is that? why are we ignored? we try so hard to reach out and express ourselves and our side, only to be shot down. if it’s a teenager’s word against an adult’s in any situation, the adult always wins because who believes teenagers anymore? we only cause trouble to get attention, it isn’t possible for us to be the victim.

adults always talk about how everyone should be treated equally, but we, as a species, are so quick to judge and base everyone in that age or race, as the same.

if this is the example adults set for us, it’s no wonder we’re so messed up and want nothing more than to leave, to get away from everything. all we really want is to be free to make our own choices without fearing judgment and, above all, to be ourselves.

is that really too much to ask?

teenagers

thoughts

i’ve always thought it kind of shitty, when you want to be a writer, but tend to not be able to find the right words. i guess, when i’m really writing, the words flow easily, but it’s more like when i try to talk to someone, via text, email, or pm, that i just can’t. there are so many unanswered messages and texts because i can never find the right words to say what i feel like saying.

so they sit there, gathering dust as the person on the other end of the screen tries to figure out what they did wrong, when really it’s all me and my inability to . . . respond. i don’t know why that is, but it’s just a habit. i always see the messages, i mean i sit there for a few minutes, staring at the too-bright screen as i try to form an answer, typing and retyping into the text box, only to delete my attempt and set down the electronic device i am using.

why is this? why is this even a thing? i don’t even know how it’s possible to just not respond to someone, but apparently, i’ve made it possible because here i am, doing it now to multiple people, and it’s eating me away, slowly, carefully, like what most things do, at least what most things have been doing lately.

but it’s hard, trying to change; because no one changes, not really. it’s just not possible. some things are just grafted into our dna, stuck with us until we are no more. so i guess i’ll be trapped here, staring at an empty text box and wondering, what the hell is wrong with me.

thoughts

2 – 27 – 15

it is officially day one, post one, of my blog.

i’ve always been told that blogs are supposed to tell your story, or at least most of them do.

i guess this is what i’ll be doing.

through a mix of pictures and quotes and videos and possibly my own short stories, i will reveal pieces of myself. i don’t think i could ever say much about me outright (i have too much social anxiety for that) so i guess this is my compromise.

the main reason i decided to start this blog was so that i could get my thoughts out into the open, because i know that, on my side of the screen, no one is bothering to listen. i guess no one will be bothering to do so on the screen either, considering the fact that no one will ever get around to reading this.

but, in the unlikely event that another human being is actually reading what i have to say (write, whatever), i wish you luck. i thank you for reading my words and taking them into consideration.

i bid you adieu for now,

– daydreamsofagirl

2 – 27 – 15