I stepped into this school thinking about all the possibilities of senior year, and all I’m stuck on is how much I miss my summer. Long story short, the summer flew on wings of fire, gliding high in the sky and disappearing into the haze of school, shadow casting over the late August days.
From time and time again, escaping into my own world grapples with the dread of social current. I don’t do people when given the option, but normally that is not a choice but rather a point on a track.
The track itself symbolizes my life, much like a train would run from dawn to dusk. I’ve been on the train for a while now. I made that decision three years ago, and the trip has been eventful like a firework show in the dark.
The rails look as if they never end, and won’t curve to settle beyond city limits. It breaks through metropolitan smog and glides through street ice, taking me from the bounds of the forest to the depths of civilization.
Life treks its path, and given the choice to ride it tells me I am in for more than what I want. More of the unexpected and uncomfortable experiences I have been through since stamping my ticket fill memories upon memories.
The adult world is stuffed full of unlikable things like messes and essays, yet with the passing of time, I have learned to take it along.
After all, that’s what makes the tall forests of euphoria shine like stars in the cosmos.
Summer is incredible and endless—if one does it right, school must drag on to feel like seconds in comparison so the payoff is that much more satisfying. Savory is what I call the hours in a classroom now. I don’t hate that time was ‘wasted’ because through that I found the ability to make time take off.
When time takes flight, that’s when school becomes impactful. This is called senior year because now the end is in sight. It’s speeding down the runway, and the stops have been pulled, foot off the brakes.
Summer was lulling this year, and I think that it’s because it was the last of familiarity. I didn’t want it to end because I knew when it did, encountering the future is inevitable.
For years, I’ve felt too young to be handling money, a job, or even driving a car. Heck, personal finance is causing me to even regret how I do things on social media platforms. I am not an adult, and I cling to nostalgia like a child because I’m just so scared.
Terror of the real world. Fear of what lies on the tracks ahead. I wander the natural world to escape the true one. Summer is the escape, school is the reality. My train tracks lead to the city, and there’s no telling what waits for me beyond the last stop.
It’s a personal experience; going back to the real world, and leaving all the comforts us. I wonder this: Can one be truly comfortable without experiencing rough seas or falling trees? No, in fact, the balance requires two weights, and the good news is I finally get to decide what both will be.
