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Chance

August 1999

Chance, 17, attends a Catholic school in Long Island, NY

So, here I am again... you'll have to excuse my absence. It seems that for no particular reason my parents are against the "if you look at school that day and feel like you're going to vomit, you don't really have to go" rule. Aahh... the trials and tribulations of being young and oh so discontent.

Now, don't misunderstand, I happen to be a fairly well rounded and happy person -- however, things around me... things around me aren't so hot these days. I have a few friends who aren't all that great off. For instance, there's Emily, whose pregnant with a baby of a guy she's known for two months. (Pretty impressive, huh? He's potent.) Then there's Kelly, who in the same week had a friend and her grandmother die, and her ex, who is still in love with her (and she him, though she won't admit it), kissed her, broke up with his girlfriend, and started a fight with her. Meanwhile, he's not all that great either.

Sigh. So what's the point of all this? I'm not sure. I'm seventeen. I'm barely driving! I shouldn't have to worry about my friends being pregnant, whether or not I'm going to wake up tomorrow and feel good enough that I don't consider putting the gun to my head today, or anything else of that matter. I'm too young to be this caged. I know why that damn bird sings, baby.

I want to go out! I want to get drunk and make out with some pretty girl who is whispering in my ear that she loves me, and then giggles because she's only known me for an hour! I want to feel alive! I want to feel something, damnit.

I'm seventeen and already complacent and apathetic. There really should be a rule, shouldn't there? I really shouldn't have to deal with this.

AAAARRRRGGGGGGHHHHH!!!! Motto to this story, folks: Be spontaneous, but careful. Live wildly, but cautiously! Feel anything except completely bare!

Live in a happy medium. Yeah.

Except, I need to feel things. I need to know I'm alive. Breathing, eating, drinking, this isn't enough for me. My soul aches to be broken, but to be set free -- to be allowed to fly. Why can't I do both? Why can't I soar... and watch out for planes at the same time... hey, you know what?

Live to feel alive.

As Always, Figuring it out, through you --

Chance
S1mulation@aol.com


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