I remember the first time I had Stride. It was sweet… exciting. It wasn’t like any other gum I’d had before. Before Stride, I was very used to those bland brands that run out of flavor after five minutes. Something about it was very different. The smell was so delicious. Maybe even a little intoxicating. It followed me everywhere I went. Sometimes I could swear that it was around when I didn’t have any on me. For a while, I obsessed over this gum. Only having this specific brand. I wasn’t interested in any other type whatsoever. Why would I be? I found my perfect pack of gum. Why would I look for anything better?
But like everything, perfection only lasts so long. I soon started realizing there were so many things I disliked about the gum. Routine kind of gets old. Having the same gum every day… eventually you’ll get sick of it. I recently tried to have this gum again and well, let’s just say that Stride and I are old news. Those first moments — those amazing, little moments — I cherish them. It turns into a craving. Mm… Cravings. Aren’t those the best? It always seems like it’ll never go away but… like everything…
I’ll never forget the first time I had Stride and I’m so lucky to have had it. Even if it was just for a little while.
Today I saw this girl who could pass as a 13-year old wearing a gigantic aqua backpack, shorts that you could find in the kids section at target, and the most interesting accessory choice: a lit cigarette between her fingers. Maybe she was just a really young looking adult. Even if not, that’s her business. But it sparked a thought that our world kind of sucks. We all have those hard-to-kick habits that, at the end of the day, kind of ruin everything. I know that I have some nasty habits that I would love to stop doing but like everything, it’s not that simple. I wonder what life was like before all this. Before we wanted everything we couldn’t have. Before we had habits that could kill us. Before we even knew anything. Not anything, anything. But the complicated things. I wonder what life would be like if it was… Simple.
I sometimes feel alone like I’m the only person in the world. The people around me may as well be creatures — unable to speak or respond to me in an understanding way. But it’s not like I speak to them, anyway. I feel crazy sometimes because it’s like I’m ready to explode or implode or whatever someone does whenever they keep a million things to themselves. I was supposed to leave my hometown and make a name for myself but what good is a name if there’s no one to remember it. And I may just be blabbering on and on about nonsense but this is what I have been thinking. My mind is running a million miles an hour and there’s no braking. No stopping. I feel trapped in my own mind and I feel like I’m going to burst. I miss those happy days when I was a child just being who I wanted to be without anyone telling me I can’t. I miss when I was encouraged to just go and be. Just be. I miss that. No one thinks that way when you get older. I am 22 now and I feel like I know less about myself than when I was just a babe. How is that possible? How are we supposed to “grow” as people but then the more we grow, the less we know.
That’s the math problem I stopped on. This is my last semester before I get my degree so I’ll need to keep my grades up. I’m sort of having trouble right now because math is my worst subject… I’ve already got a tutor.
For the last 4 hours or so, I’ve been studying like crazy so that I’m ready for school in the morning. If I didn’t have David, I wouldn’t pass at all. Does anyone else have these problems or is it just me? My main problem is that I work too fast and miss small details (like adding the negative sign to a number). He’s pretty much my proofreader and savior, for the most part. I actually had to redo the first half of my homework because I forgot all those minor details. How frustrating… I almost didn’t get to post today.
That would have sucked. Just like math…
For the past 5 hours, I have been tearing my hair out over my bedroom. I’ve decided to remodel.
For this week’s Discover Challenge, explore the poetic power of list-making.
Source: The Poetry of List-Making
I’m allergic to penicillin. Or amoxicillin. Or both.