So I’m writing at an inconvenient moment, being that I have to be at school in less than a half hour. But I must, there’s no other way this will get out. It will either be forgotten along my journey of life, or it’ll pull me under before I get the chance to breathe. It feels like it will be the latter rather than the former, and either way, neither of those is appealing. So here I sit, contemplating how I should phrase my innermost insecurities.

I’m supposed to feel liberated, lighter at heart, free prancing, however you’d like to phrase it. But I don’t. Where is the wonderful feeling I felt a couple weeks ago? It was euphoric, uplifting, and absolutely amazing.

It’s funny, I was reading my first “true” journal last night, and my outlook as changed beyond belief. All I ever wrote about was mindless internet musings, all of my accomplishments of hogging internet space that I ended up sitting on lazily. It was serendipitous to read my first run-in with love (serendipitous to read it now, and serendipitous to fall in love in the first place). I’ll admit, I was infatuated then, and the concept of going against all parental and school expectations of me was liberating in itself. I was so afraid of getting in trouble for a tiny kiss, it was ridiculous. But it’s something I laugh about now (it’s only been five years since then, and I feel miles away from the Therese I used to be.)

I guess right now, I’m wondering where I stand now. I haven’t written a journal entry in a while, and I guess as I read the other journals, it was more and more suspenseful to wonder what would be on that next page, or rather, the one that hasn’t been written yet. I don’t wish to write it yet because I have no idea where I am. I don’t know if I’m defying some scientific law, but everything’s screaming at me, “STAY PUT, DO NOT MOVE OR YOU WILL DIE.” (Figuratively speaking, of course, which is terrible figurative language in the first place, but I really don’t care that much this morning.)

Ah, adolescence. You’ve been my agony since you started. I don’t know what I’d do without you. (Except… remain a tiny wasian female. And that’s never fun, is it?)