madden fairfax, district one | finished, cb

The way I see it, you've got two choices in life.

Either you choose to be the popular girl who wastes all her potential before she turns eighteen, or you choose to be the woman with the big family and the cozy job who pretends like she doesn't regret all the memories she missed out on — so, obviously, I went with the former. It's kind of the only option in this district. Being a teenager is a strange kind of eternity. Adulthood is a gamble, and I'm not good with numbers. But I can roll a pretty slick blunt, and I can show you all the best places to disappear and reappear again. Like magic.

A game of hide and seek, but make it euphoric. Skip all your classes, order ten burgers for three people, drink milkshakes until all your thoughts begin to freeze together. It makes it easier, I think. Dealing with the existential dread. At the end of the day, everybody's running from something. A pissed off parent, an ex that can't seem to get over it, a bad grade, butterflies in your stomach that just won't stop trying to fly. But I'm standing here, with a sick feeling in my gut, and I like to tell myself that I can't be bothered to care.

These are the golden years. These are the mistakes I'll remember. And I'm terrified of who I'll have to become in order for my life to become a memory — to learn what kind of woman a girl like me is allowed to be; if that's even possible, if youth isn't just some cage we've all been tricked into — but isn't that so melodramatic? Boring, too. Just sit by me. We'll share some fries, and not think for awhile.

I swear it's easier this way.