Let’s all pretend we’re someone else,if only for a moment
to relive that joy of childhood, where nothing else and no one knows or matters, where life is carefree and all we did was get stomach aches. I leave a pail outside my door for you to take at your will. But all I really want is to hold your hand, and hope everything will work itself out. I tend to ramble when I’m contemplative, which I always tend to be. For without the contemplation, I dont think I would be me.
Everything seems to come back to high school. eveything I learned, I learned in high school, right? There is this great song out right now, which is on my profile, from Bowling for Soup called “High School Never Ends”. How true. How true.
The stolen glances across a hall, the politcal clique-y-ness of it all, sometimes high school seemed the world, but then the bubble was burst, but the reminents of a time when still remain.
Politics never leave. The popular kids always seem to work themselves out. The poor get poorer, the rich richer, and the middle class struggle with identity. Meanwhile, at a lunch table nearby, I pretend to not care, even though this crazy little thing called a “high school” crush follows me everywhere. Oh, if only I had the balls to grab the bull by the horn…oh, wait…
Then there is the ever present political commentary going on behind closed doors…the secrets no one wants you to hear…or maybe the secrets that are thrust upon you uninvited.
Maybe I just need to stop watching reruns of Veronica Mars.
