gina

breathe

Distractions around me make my grades fall.

I suddenly look around the room unable to focus on my teacher or the board, or even my classwork, forcing me to take a C, D, or worse- an F. I've gotten used to it, but how will I ever graduate with grades so low? How will my future be guaranteed successful?

This isn't Hollywood, and I'm not a celebrity who does absolutely nothing to get paid. I can't act. I can't sing. I can't play an instrument. So what am I supposed to do? I'm absolutely talentless. Thoughts like these make me breathe deeper and louder, the anxiousness in my body making me twitch at the slightest movement and the slapping of my rubber band begins. Too bad I'm always so buried in my thoughts, that my breathing is never constant. It's always too fast, or too slow. My heartbeat is irregular, and I can't do anything about it. At least when Jay was around, he helped me get over this feeling. Now I have no one.