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I am tired. Niether exhausted or energized, Just living the monotony of each day. I am worn. Not completely worn down, But I am noticably faded. I am dissatisfied. I am definitely not depressed,
Day after day after day It's the same old story...
Every morning I awake With the Overbearing Sense of Dread That everyone Expects Me To carry Silently. This
empty, filled. Empty; Filled. Empty.
Education is the confirmation, that your life after will be grand, from learning physics to foreign language conjugations, it leads to jobs in high demand, many bash education and teachers,
Marks on a page; Disjunct, incoherent Numbing, repititive markings on page, Two-dimensional substance of which contains no matter, no substance. All to be labeled. All to be judged. All this marking,
As you stare out the window of your quickly moving train car, the landscape, blurred, is ashen and bare, and the pitter-patter of rain on the thin metal roof never stops.
Her Star Wars alarm sounds at 8 AMEvery single morningAnd she struggles against her blanketsBecause she managed to wad herself upIn them again, like she does every single night
The INSOLENT hands of the clock are shadily employed by boredom itself Each tick is a moment spent examining the air each tock is the scream of a perishing elf Dormant, idle, indolent, motionless
I’ve spent my whole life being a goody-two-shoes… And for what?! Every year, every assignment, every class, every grade My parents demanded—it was an A that I made.
The rush of the day has come to me Lightened finger tips as I stand under the consuming rays of the sun Stretching my limbs back and taking it in All of life has flooded into the etchings of my body
I awake to the sound of a blaring ring An obscenely hideously early hour In darkness I struggle to wake myself I stumble to make it first to the shower The cold water like a sudden bold of energy