I awake to the light of a yellow ball, rising over the hills. I can feel it on my skin, I can even see my eyelids turning red from this unstoppable light.
I refuse to open my eyes, although I'm fully conscious.
I know I should get up, but what would even be the point?
I'm just laying here, laying in my own invisible quick sand of fleeing time....but it doesn't feel like time is fleeing when I keep my eyes closed.
Time. My age doesn't even feel real, this moment here doesn't feel tangible at all. Yet I think "God how did it all go by so quick?!" I'm so young, but some days I don’t feel it at all
Everything keeps changing so fast, that I don't catch on quick enough.
You'd think knowing how fast time could go by would make me have the motivation to get up and do something productive, but it doesn't,
Because the thoughts of doing anything you enjoy is a total bummer when you already know someone has already thought of or is currently doing it.
And it hurts, because you want to be someone who discovers new beauty that no one has ever done or seen before.
Then you think, "maybe these thoughts and feelings are also thoughts and feelings others have had as well’" and then you realize even those thoughts don't make you unique.
How is anyone supposed to stand out in a world full of people having colors bursting out of them?
You think of the times you’ve experienced with friends and family, that others have probably experienced as well, but these memories are different with every person, you take a closer look at the details, then you see that they really are all different with each person you come across.
Everyone can relate in one way or another.
We all have the same color blood, we all breathe the same air, we are all human, we are all the same in the bigger picture, but once you look closely at an individual, the small details you see on a person can change a lot from your perspective.
We are all so similar, yet so different.
Maybe we shouldn't let the expectations of society make us feel the constant need to be original, because it doesn't really exist.
Maybe it isn’t so bad that being “unique,” is just another word for being normal, because that's what we all are.
-- Domaris C., 9th-12th Grade