Fatma

I’m currently listening to a 7-inch John Travolta vinyl and crying in my room for no reason. I feel so confused, as if I’m not living up to the ideals of teenage life. I always feel like I have no more hope for mankind or for myself, but I’m so cynical that I almost find myself funny. I’m thinking the thoughts of a 40-year-old going through a midlife crisis. I’m like a character from a Woody Allen film. I spend my time watching films, wishing I lived in them. I try to be positive, but everything ends up the same. I don’t think there’s another 14-year-old who has the same constant thoughts about mortality and society as I do. When I look around, the people at my school are talking about shopping and the TV shows that they watched the night before. I’m sit alone thinking about fate or what infinity looks like. I’m basically Danny Pudi’s character in the show Community. But I’m more than a character. I’m a real life person. I honestly need to relax and, put in the simplest of terms, I have to stop thinking so much.

On a separate note, I had a super weird dream in which a boy from school kissed me. And although I’ve never kissed anyone, it felt so real. I woke up feeling so weird and kind of disgusted with myself. I can’t even be relaxed in my dreams.

I have so many emotions, going in different directions, at full speed. I’ll have to make a traffic light system for my feelings so that I don’t mentally crash and burn. ♦