The Beginning.

The beginning of the end of school.

All good things have an ending. If they didn’t, it would just become boring as fuck. You’d get tired of it soon. Adversity is what makes the good times worth living.

It was like riding a burning bicycle through hell, but maybe how bad and fucking infuriating some stuff in school is for no reason was what made the good times in that place so much better.

I’m at the crossroads between youth and whatever the fuck else there is. I’m so scared. Like one day I’ll wake up and I’m an adult with a job and responsibilities and shit. Hung over from the fun I had the past decade. I haven’t talked to most of my friends in years, except for the ones who will still stick around, if there are any.

The good old days are ending.

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