I am sitting here staring at my computer screen, and I want to scream. 

It’s the end of the year, so it feels as though everything has been written about already. I am completely empty. Nothing swims in my mind. And I am utterly frustrated. 

Why can’t I just come up with something? Why can’t I just write? I have spent all year coming up with topics, but all of the movies are taken or not out, and I am unmotivated to think outside the box. 

I prefer to be in the box when it gets to the last leg of the school year. I don’t push myself as much as I should. I just let things happen rather than make them happen. My motivation is completely gone, and I don’t know how to fix it or if I even want to fix it. 

I still complete all my work on time, but I will admit that it is not my best effort. My best anything is lost, all used up by the more energetic version of myself at the beginning of the year. 

All of my teachers continuously remind me that we are almost done with the race and that we can see the finish line. But I do not want to see it—I want to be crossing the line. 

I have never woken up excited about school, but I dread it even more now. It does not help that seniors are gone and that I am witness to the freedom they have now that they are done with high school. I am envious of it. 

I crave summer. The beach, pools, tanning, reading, freedom. What is there not to yearn for? 

This will be my last high school summer. It is especially hyped up, and I am, of course, pumped. I am expecting a multitude of beach, carnival, and fair trips. I am expecting plenty of time with friends and family, soaking in the sun and soaking up the love before the stress of senior year.

Yet I am still stuck in the same halls I have been trapped in for three years. I am not yet released into the warm embrace of summer. 

I will still turn in my work; I will still show up; I will still feel unmotivated. It is the curse of the end of the year. I will recharge over the summer, and next year, the cycle will start over. I will start motivated and actually try my best; then, the end will come, and the motivation will cease to exist. 

I am still staring at my computer, and I still wish to scream.