the room fills
with people wielding mics and cameras
attention towards the podium
where i am supposed to be

ive been dreading this moment
there's no bad news to be told
even on a positive note
moments like these are why secrets exist

i dont want to report my daily happenings to anyone
i dont need to inform you of every minor or major event
cut the mic, shut off the camera
nobody needs to know

im leaving, going home
i'll use the backdoor,
where noone can see me

I scrolled up through all the old texts
Hoping it would eventually stop scrolling
It didn't.
I was able to read back all of our memories
I wasn't able to forget them as easily the second time around.
I was able to see the exact moment I lost you.
That's when I stopped
The one moment I didn't need a reminder of

i closed my eyes and i saw us in a car. me driving, you in the passengers seat. its very bright out. you turn and do that smile where you squint your eyes with it in a way i find adorable. my imagination finds its best memory of your voice that it can, but saying nothing in particular. it's weird to imagine because you are self conscious about your voice and id also imagine about your smile. the only feeling i can attach to it is "guilt", as if i forced you to speak when you didnt want to. it's vulnerability and it is supposed to feel unpleasant, but knowing that doesn't necessarily make it any less so. i even feel a vulnerability i haven't felt in quite a while in writing all of this down (and hopefully telling you)

once I lose the ability to concentrate
my day is effectively over
what's the point if i cant think?
no studying, reading, writing,
no retention of anything really, fun or otherwise
forced to revert to humanity's most primal state
your mind is your greatest form of entertainment
and fulfillment
but of course i lost the remote.

and i asked him
(my younger self)
why he followed
the road to nowhere
with so much resolve
he said he had never
seen it before
and had no reason to
fear what he never felt
he possesses the recklessness i wish
i had
he totally lacks confidence
yet acts the opposite
as it's all he's ever had
i suddenly feel
corrupted by my small victories
if every endeavor
should end with
that small high he
would soon feel
after following his heart,
not his head.
and i know he will chastise
himself for that.
for ignoring his head,
his intelligence that he feels so proud of.
his defining feature.
I hope one day I can believe him.
But he will be stepping backwards.

when we speak of failure
it evokes vision of a great struggle followed by defeat
a saga that helps define who you are
that makes a great party story in a few years

but what of the small battles that you lose
who are long forgotten
yet in the present moment feel equally as devastating?

dripping iced tea on your shirt
getting stood up that one time
that joke that flopped and silenced the room

these failures don't make great stories
but they are part of our stories

Man I can't believe I'm reminiscing about high school. I remember always hating that **** until people started kinda getting friendly with me towards the end. I think LI is just beautiful to look at and visit, but I remember living there being pure hell. Looking back I miss it but when I put myself in my old shoes I remember how awful it was. If the events didn't unfold in the way they did, I would never be where I am today, thinner and happier and more confident. I'd be stuck in that same suburban attitude everyone else gets caught up with in staying in one state of mind forever. "Grass is always greener" type of thing. I still feel as if I hold some sort of resentment for the popular kids and all the attention they received because I feel like I'm getting too old to be able to experience things anymore while simultaneously having them retain the novelty of being new. I'm just glad I don't live near there anymore so that I'm not forced to run into them every now and again. Still, it does get to me every now and again. It looks so peaceful in pictures and in the summer it's beautiful. Perhaps it's time to accept the fact that I'll never truly get closure.

It's always easier to admire something from afar
A picture of the jungle
A large bonfire
You see a small part of the picture without feeling it
The bugs biting into your skin, the moisture in the air clinging to you
The intense heat and the smell of burned matter
These experiences are what you miss when you decide to admire instead of stepping forward into it
The mystery, the suspense of what might happen kills you, you tell yourself
Yet even when you step in, you must step through the actions
There is no guarantee and there never was one