Random Thoughts II

I wonder what I'm going to write here, what it'll turn into. It's strange just writing from my mind but I seem to be doing it. It's so dark outside now, and it gets dark so early. I still miss summer. I miss camp and everyone from there. I hope I see them all again. There are 250 days until I return, 240 days until school ends. I'm excited, but I don't want to rush things like that. I don't want the school year to end. It's hard typing up my thoughts like this, they come in so quickly then more come in as I type them. I guess after this I'll turn on a Spotify playlist and then read for a few hours until I go to bed. Tomorrow is a Wednesday. We're almost halfway through the school week. I'm glad. I like school but it's so tiring...waking up at six and everything. I'm so glad I get to sleep in a few hours, I'm exhausted. Ok, wow, I've actually written a lot. Ugh, I hate math. It's the worst class. By writing this I'm realizing how uninteresting my thoughts are. Like they're only interesting when I put my mind to it, which I'm not doing! I'm so glad I've done all my homework. I guess I'm not gonna finish the episode I started, though. Well, maybe I'll finish on Friday. We're picking electives on Thursday! Unfortunately, my homeroom's going last, but still. I also hate PE. It's just terrible and should not exist. For some reason this is strangely hard to write, let me take a break to stretch my putty and think about what to write next. Ugh, I'm so boooorrrreeddd and this is definitely not good writing. In fact, it's just a lot of unrelated sentences mashed together. Well, whatever. That's what thoughts are like, I guess.

star

NH

15 years old

More by star

  • Stained-glass girl

    you should be an image in stained-glass windows

    the same ones you trace with your eyes every sunday

    while hymns echo in your ears, words

    you've known so long you forget the meaning. 

    or you belong in a portrait

  • Lavender and Gardenias

    Her room smelled of lavender and gardenias

    As we lay under silky rays of sun

    And danced around the truth in long, snaking sentences,

    Words falling over one another until they

    Became nothing, only syllables

  • nevermind, then.

    and the pale pink is fading from the morning sky

    the same way the words from the song i sang about you

    under my misty-cold breath

    died on my lips. i wonder if i would've waited forever,