torn between "bloom where you're planted" and "never settle"

it hasn't quite hit yet? i was elected to be the one to put together my class' graduation video, and it still hasn't hit. tears have been shed for "next year"s and "what if"s and it still has not hit. i am in the process of finding a new editor for the school newspaper next year, and it still hasn't hit. 

maybe it has. i stopped going to the cafeteria for food and have been hiding in my room, holed up with studies and last minute papers, as if my life depended on it. as if it was a defense mechanism. maybe it has. 

i want something to teach me to love what i have, the numbered days i own, the few multitudes that remain from earlier days. people i used to talk to in middle school will message me for grad invites, and none of it feels real. it's as if this is a game we're all playing. we're not really all leaving, are we? when i was younger, one night a senior girl we used to live next to had a small group over until about 3am, and they just sat and talked over a fire under the stars about memories. i could just hear them out my window as i watched the stars that night, practically aching for the feeling of leaving one day. 

i want to construct my own days of gold; i no longer want to wait for those days to me time. i want a drive to work, i want a sense of wonder to explore, i want my discipline to be what pulls me through whatever necessary. i want my tongue to halt before letting it fill my spaces with poison and slander. 

teach me to love what i have, but let me learn to want to go out and fight for a better life in this world. i no longer want my own mind to be the trap that is able to hold me back from so much. i don't want other's eyes to be what grabs at me and tackles me to the ground. 

i have already put together uni plans, bought the grad dress, put together the presentation for leaving, carefully constructed the perfect show for no one to remember me by by the time the next group of four-years roll around. 

i was never a four-year anywhere, but i have heard legends of those who came before me, crawling back to our english teacher and crying out that they have done nothing with their life, and they're already twenty-four.

our english teacher says he just laughs and tells them

"you've only just begun."

☁️     ☁️     ☁️

i am leaving these doors very soon. how lucky am i to be only just beginning.

☁️     ☁️     ☁️

The Man Who Married a Robot - the 1975 | How to Draw - the 1975 | 5:32pm - the deli | Blessings (reprise) - chance the rapper | Outrun - de hofnar & alfie day | hospital bed - cold war kids | lookalike - conan gray | 7000x - judah & the lion