I've never been great at sticking to stuff, friends, hobbies, this blog, you name it i've probably messed it up. Nostalgia seems to haunt me on a daily basis and sometimes i wish i could restart, like i restart songs because i've zoned out and missed the best part - sometimes i don't even remember zoning out, it just happens and i'm left wondering well, what happened.
It's like my life was supposed to be different it's like my life is a book and i closed it before even giving it a chance. I'm not even sure what i'm doing anymore it feels like i'm stuck in a rut and no matter how many times i think i've got out of it, i'll always fall straight back down the rabbit hole - like Alice, but less interesting. I remember being sixteen and telling my English teacher i wouldn't be doing my A levels, dissapointment filled the air of that classroom and it made it extremely difficult to breathe. Maybe he was right, I often wonder whether he was right, I often ponder whether I should've listened and not been such a cynical sixteen year old. He always said I was cynical and I can't help but wonder whether I've always been cynical or whether I one day suddenly just became cynical. I tried thinking about when I was a kid, is that where it started? I guess i've always been able to form my own opinions. I've always been headstrong (others might just call it stubborn) but maybe I was born like it, maybe that's why I find it hard to keep in contact with people, I'd rather be alone, at least that's what i tell myself - I think i tell myself that sometimes, just to make me feel better about the amount of time I do spend alone. The truth is I do get lonely, sometimes I crave attention, but I'd never admit it (she says whilst writing it online) Sometimes I wish I could change something, anything, however the past is only ever as good as you remember it, the past is a personal thing. Maybe we all wish we could change stuff, maybe it's an international feeling - something we all feel at some point. No one ever tells you how to deal with nostalgia, is it something we have to deal with? or do we just repress it? you see nostalgia is a liar, like i said earlier the past is a personal thing. I remember a school counsellor giving me a notebook, she told me to write down my feelings and then tear the paper up or set it on fire (possibly not the best thing to tell a kid from a council estate) however I never used it, I always said I would but I just never bothered. Why would I want to do something as human as sharing my feelings? This post is slightly all over the place, a bit like me - and my driving when I try to get into fifth on a motorway but the less said about that the better. Maybe this post is something I needed to write, maybe this post was supposed to be written, I seem to feel better already and for some reason i'm smiling - it feels genuine, I haven't felt genuine in a long time. I want to change i don't want to stay here forever, where I live you either leave or you die here - I guess that's like most places but this is one of the only places i've ever been to where a sixteen year olds only ambition is to get pregnant but I guess at least they have an ambition, most of the people here don't even have that. Most people here are just existing, I don't blame them though, it's hardly the most inspiring place to be. I think what I'm saying is that I don't know what i'm doing but I'm going to try and at least if I don't get what I want i'll know I tried. I read somewhere once that you can't live 90 years and call it a life, maybe it was worded differently, then again i'm sure it was worded differently but the fact is that I don't just want to exist I want to live and maybe that's what has always made me different, maybe that's why i've never been able to stick to anything - or maybe that's just an excuse? who knows? not me apparently. That's it for now, if anyone ever reads this i'm not sorry - not anymore. I don't want to apologise for feeling and therefore i'm not going to. Bye for now, Chloe x
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AuthorChloe is 19 and from London. Archives
May 2018
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