Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Anais Vionet Feb 2024
We’re (my roommates and I) at a specific time of youth - a time I’ll call “close.” We aren’t fully adults but we’re close, we’re not completely out and independent, but we’re close. And once again, we’ve got choices to make.

I read this paragraph to the room.
Lisa gasped and exclaimed “Not choices?!”
“More choices?” Anna groaned.
“I’ll have a bacon-cheeseburger with large-fries,” Sophy said, adding, “and a blueberry-triple-malt shake.”
“Freedom is choices,” Leong, our favorite communist, ungrammatically observed.

We’re in the second half of our junior year - which is still hard to believe. We’ll be seniors soon, and seniors have one foot out the door - they’re ‘over the ****’ academically - nothing will be thrown at them that they can’t casually handle, so they sleep-in or trek off to job interviews half the time or in my case, go med-school hunting.

I’ve written about our lives - the stresses, healthy doses of narrative-suffused teen drama, the ascetic beauties and the enchantments of freedom - trying to capture a few real-life moments at irregular intervals, in small ellipses, to tack them, like butterflies on cork.

What’s been hard to capture are the subtler shifts in taste and mood as we’ve aged. I’ve had to purposefully slow down, doppler shift from frantic student to observant writer, to even try and grasp the constantly evolving, small variations. Like Anna’s cainogenetic expressiveness, Leong's imponderable politics, Sophy’s evolving, coquettish bar-side poses and the growing assertiveness of Lisa’s gaze.

As we mentally prepare for our real lives, there are diffuse metamorphic changes afoot. What will we leave behind and what will we keep in order to “grow up?” I don’t mean changes in haircuts, clothes and make-up - although I’m sure I’ll MCU-those-out - I mean the psychological changes.

Throughout our college careers, the objects we’ve surrounded ourselves with, the settings we’ve chosen to inhabit, the faces we’ve shown the world, and even our intimate notions of ourselves have changed.

And It’s still only junior year, I can’t wait to see what comes next.
slang…
*cainogenetic: adaptations in development that aren’t found in evolutionary ancestors
MCU-out = the nauseating oversaturation of something, like the Marvel-movie-verse.

Adults don’t always grasp (remember?) the thousands of small but concrete choices governing the life of, say, a middle-school adolescent. The zig-zags that appear puzzling or random from afar, stem from questions like, ‘What does my belt say about my sexuality or my relationship to oppressed people in poverty?”
Renae Dec 2023
Fine print signatures hardly exist when
little white lines guide your mind
Trusted friends,  kin,
I believed when they said I'd win
Surely this won't take me
I claim invincibility
Laugh louder outside
Inside I am screaming
Save me
I am imploding
She is empty what happened to us
What happened to me
I am in disbelief
I chose this ending
Noa Adler Oct 2023
Two roads,
Both of suffering,
A travel of torment,
An alcoholic buffering,
A mental health descent.

Two roads,
Both amnesiac,
Disasters once foretold,
A twisted aphrodisiac,
A trauma to remold.

Two roads,
And no yellow wood,
The lines are blurred and gray,
And no choice is ever good,
With the forces at play.

Two roads,
And a traveler,
With sanity at stake,
The wrong choice could unravel her,
A choice she's yet to make.
*referencing "The Road Not Taken" by Robert Frost
nick armbrister Aug 2023
What If?
Brian never thought he would work in a call centre
When he lived in Germany he was unemployed
And while looking for a job he was forced to go
Work in a call centre and refused creating a fuss
I’m not selling insurance or loft insulation!
Put me on fork lift truck training it’s my job
Not some **** call centre 2 towns away

The stupid ***** running the training place
Offered to buy Brian a bicycle and he laughed!
You silly ******* cow retrain me on fork lifts
I need to renew my outdated licence
Not work taking calls like a fool robot
Half a decade passed and Brian
Ate his words working in a call centre!
Don't worry about the words people say,
Not at the end of the day,
nor,
at the end of this lifetime,

All that they say, let them,
ignore them, and continue
to be who you are, no matter
what they choose to believe,

Realize, if it's at the end of a day
or
rather if it's at the end of this life,
They're not anyone
or
anything that will judge you,

They'll be judged too.
So many judgemental people. People choose what they believe, they are so deceived. Sometimes people are just fill of pride so they continue the charade instead of making an admission that their wrong. Some people go to extremes to spread untruths about who you really are. Try not to worry about either way. They'd rather believe what they believe about you but trying to prove yourself to them over and over again will not change their minds. We all will have the same judge.
unknown Jun 2023
You always wanted to be treated like a queen, like a princess.
Be in a kingdom of love, faith, hope, care, respect, and honesty.
Acting as if your life was filled with fairytales, filled with possibilities.
Drowning with the thoughts of battling with once upon a time and happy ending.

You once painted him as your knight in shinning armor.
Described him as your light in a place that's filled with darkness.
You wrote everything perfectly, but on what reason? What purpose?
Were you just overwhelmed by fulfilling the thought of being with him?

Two different paths to take, one choice to make.
One choice to make.
One path to take.
And without hesitation you choose him, over and over again.

Little by little you started to wonder,
What was really the purpose of doing this? Of being with the knight that shined light?
Did the light made everything clear? Or did it just blinded you?
Still you've got no answer, you're lost in your imaginations.

Your knight in shinning armor? Did he really saved you?
Your light in the darkness? Did you really see everything?
The path you took? Was it really the right path?
You should be saying yes, but why are you gloating?

Didn't you want this? Didn't you prayed for this?
Didn't you waited for this? Didn't you work hard for this?
The story you created for how many years just to make your life magical,
Yet you're stuck in your own fairytale that has no spark anymore.
as the rest move in a herd in time, fixed and onward
some remain at a pace of their own
slower,
wallowing in crevices, an act of conscious apartheid
familiar with the shortage of influence, that is, separation.
wandering by will
vicariously living through a phobia of confusion
hence why lost souls remain lost
fear of false direction, fear of decision
uncertainty amongst hysteria
a deadly duo for the few
settlement has become still
and those lost are familiar with movement
2 steps forward, 12 steps scattered
here and there and it's unclear
up and down
its all around the dance to delusion goes to no sound
but illusion.
distress within the body whose mind follows curiosity
incessant pondering yields a detriment
to the thinker,
be about
your quest and breed your farewell to the
blissful life of ignorance
that now follows you
-
is there a solace to be found for these creatures?
has the point of no return passed?
the distance behind is immeasurable
for the path previously paved is dimly lit
to decipher the single instance is a feat of all men
does the lone wolf recall?
would love feedback on this one.
Meandering Words Jan 2023
only two dancers
remain standing
shuffling
   and swaying
under syncopated lights
held by
an unspoken law
an apparently unavoidable
trait of human nature
that forces them
to continue despite
such terrible choices
of song
and persistence
each was merely
a "friend
   of the bride"
moving in different circles
prior to this
their dancefloor meeting
unfortunately
neither can now
abandon the other
to dance alone
to risk being seen
as the cause
for bringing this
near-sacred ritual
to an end
these residual bodies
left with no choice
but to mirror
each movement
match every sidestep
echo every clap
with rhythm
   or without
it will not matter
so long as this
transient solidarity
of misplaced confidence
and forced smiles
continues into
the next song
Next page