Expectations

Finally, the blade deepens and hits just right, the scar of what the doubtful and painful knife has left me dangerous and fill with emptiness. The sparks of experience I had was weak and burning low, it soon became a weapon that only caused me harm. This tree trunk soon became an empty vessel searching for a purpose in this constant non-fiction world. Tick tock, bridle tock, the clock goes, teachers writing riddles on the board, speaking of a foreign language that I cannot comprehend.Various noises filled the crime syndicateroom, speaking of gibberish as I sit in this isolated bubble of my own. Surviving in this vessel, searching for a purpose- no, exclusively rather waiting to be re-wired and commanded day by day. I love the languages subjects so I am pretty good at it, but I hate math and sciences, thus I am bad at it.With no further comments I scanned through the whiteboard, but everyday I worry on how people kept instructing me how to grow as a person giving me options o n whats right and wrong, but in the end, the things that I ordain choose leave alone forevermore be false.Everyday, I noticed to have a work that is always incomplete I contemplate at the blank piece of paper reflecting round my livelihood. With not much personality as an individual, hence I do not find it as an inconvenience to survive in this school.As duration continued to pass by, I realized that Im currently stuck in a never ending cycle of hypnotism, staggering through the same hallways each day, and soon it feels as though everything is on repeat. In class again, questions and answers that are not even needed in my daily life, being drilled into my mind, as I flipped through the textbook, which contains no specific answer.How are your grades? you asked with a smile.I shrugged, The same, I guess.Piercing me with your eyes, reminding me of the future I will soon have. If my tears were colours, then my pillow would be painted with rainbows.Thus in the morning, I would r aise up up with dark rings around my eyes, taunting me every time I look at myreflection. I would try and cover it up so that they would be a shade lighter, but I know they can never completely disappear. astounding through the same hallways, towards an empty seat, one remote from the sunlight, but rays all the same reached, blinded me and left me a daze, as if it is trying to question me What were you expecting in life? What are your dreams?Searching frantically for an answer in that textbook, I cant breathe, Im choking and it hurts.The stares that they give, beating galvanic pile my federal agency and pride all over again, I tried to find an answer, but its all the same still an empty white paper, reflecting about my accomplishment in life. I can do thisI go repeating those words in my mind, as I stare at that incomplete work, reminding me about responsibilities, succeeder, achievements, grades, and so on, and every time I climb back up, your words kept knocking down my sta nce, chaining me down, to expectations, that I cannot achieve.Expectations and dreams, which are so heavy chaining me, more than gravity ever will. Ive triedIm tiredIt hurtsWhen will you ever grow up? But let me ask, what is the meaning of growing up in the prototypic place? If this is whats it feels like, then I just want to stop. The path they build for me is dictated to be undefiled and filled with beautiful lies.Feeding me with expectations, rewiring my senses, choking me with perfection. I cannot breathe, I feel nauseous. My body cannot sustain it. Staggering to a mirror, I see the rings under my eyes, as a constant reminder the about those disappointing glares I noticedAh they are getting darker.