I am something a few miles short of amazing.

I am someone who thinks of all the possible ways to complete and utter happiness then I remember that I’m a few bricks short from everything; I can’t have that way going on for me.

Then I listen to Paramore and think of all the fans of the band who’d rip me apart if I badmouth the band and I smile thinking maybe that it wouldn’t be so bad. And I shut it off, imagining myself with red hair and how weird it would be for my skin tone. It’d never work.

I randomly scour the net to find some semblance of what I could do tomorrow to make time fly faster than it should. When all else fails, I just go to tumblr even if I don’t have an account there myself. I come across this post with a beautiful shade of grey saying:

It’s not too late to be what you could have been.

And I say to myself, what could the guy who wrote possibly know how late everyone is?

And I begin hating it all. The love, the commercialization of it, gender, the ruling class, everything has become hateful and I lose it. I shut down the windows. I close off the chatboxes leaving only one of them open.

The one for you.

And you’re not there. And I weep as we’ve become a thousand miles short of amazing.


About kyogakura
Bored 95% of the time.

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