fifteen and sinking in. you think life is not made for you.
you are wrong. i know you are barely holding on to a sinking ship, and i know that it feels all hopeless because people exist, and people are terrible and you in yourself are terrible too. but you are wrong, life is not a tailor made suit and you are not a rich business man. you are terribly tired today, but you wont be so forever.
stop and breathe. you are just fifteen.
this world is crumbling beneath the sole of your shoes, dont stomp it to the ground. stop and wait, breathe. look at the ground and then back at the horizon. what do you see?
there, in the distance, the sun is setting. there, in the periphery, the apartments around you rise like large concrete giants. there, in the garden, children play along and laugh to a song you dont remember; a lost memory of your own childhood that you had known by heart when you were four. there, the orange glaze of dusk, the milking blue of the night and in the middle the cold breeze tingling your feet.
that, the way life never stops.
it's just another day where childhood slips beneath the pads of your fingertips and life slips away with every breathe you take.
it's just another day.
it doesnt feel like the end yet, does it?
