Your Average 17 Year Old

Your average 17 year old with dreams, and a not so calcified pineal gland, yet. I believe in nothing staying forever, living in the now, and have a passion for love, life and music. I write quite a bit, read quite a bit, and try to paint. Not that I reach anywhere with that.
Just another soul without an idea about what it’s doing in the ever expanding universe, I’m that what you’ve been in your years of growing up, someone you probably gave up on as you were told that it’s time you became realistic. Or maybe, I’m that part of your soul you’re still holding on to, someone you visit every night after a long day at the hospital, preserved with love in the pages of your diary. Or maybe, just maybe, I’m that calling of your heart which you listened to, had a moment of doubt about, but someone you held the hand of tightly, and just ran, ran, ran headfirst into the labyrinth of your own creation. I’m the child who’s dreamed of saving the school when the masked men attacked, I’m the girl who wishes death greets her in war. I’m the lover who dreams of holding the hand of her romeo, and running away from all that is known, as the Bollywood gundas run behind them, guns in hand, and I’m also the girl who loves tattoos and piercings. I’m the girl who will enjoy sitting with you in cafe`, saying nothing at all, with a smile on her face, and also the girl who will agree to run away with you for a trek in the woods. I’m the promise you made to yourself in the summer of 69, I’m the years of your life that you wish you lived a bit more.

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