adolescence.
based on mizuharas's post.
she steps into her adolescence, full of fresh hopes and dreams; things that are made of sugar
(be careful, too much sugar will ruin you.)
it's day one. a piece of homework is slapped down in front of her.
no complaints (but it's the first day of school!) no, none at all.
the first week passes quickly. the homework piles up.
(and so does the number of rungs you have to climb to reach the top of the social ladder.)
friends are made, numbers exchanged; gossip is whispered secretly, scandalously:
i heard she pays her tuition teacher to do her work for her.
or
did you know that she cuts? poor girl.
there's a sickeningly sweet and artificial taste of cherry all around.
there are different things to study in school, all categorised neatly into different subjects.
but what they never told her was that people could be labelled, too:
that one's a slut; oh, i heard that she's a part time model!; just look at her fat thighs.
there are different boxes for different kinds of people.
some are classified as freaks who sit alone in the corner all day.
some are also classified as the most popular girls in school.
(they call them cliques)
friends are nice. friends are good, she thinks, when she finds out that her classmates took notes for her.
but what she also realises that friends aren't friends. (there's the scent of artificial cherry again)
ugh, she actually scored higher than i did, i bet she cheated;
could you tell me your answer to this question? - oh, i'm not too sure, sorry!
it's just an endless cycle of competing to see who's good enough to stay in the gladiator's pit.
(the stakes go up; are you willing to sacrifice everything for the grades?
what do you want to do in the future?
you should start planning already.
but she doesn't know what to do, because
she's barely finding her feet and standing up; how is she going to map her world?
i just want to live life happily. - that's all?
you don't want to be a little more ambitious?
there might just be a brighter future for you if you work harder.
sometimes, the expectations are crushing.
the pressure rockets sky high:
everything must be perfect. everything must be perfect.
but nobody notices the small ribbons of red that seem little more than mere decorations on skin;
it's nothing, i just scratched myself by accident.
the razor lying by the sink goes unseen.
calories are counted; fats are burnt;
i'm not skinny enough. i have to be skinnier.
but her wrists are bamboo thin and her waist is impossibly tiny; what more could she want?
perfection, she screams. i want perfection.
the world is terrifyingly noisy.
silent screams for help fill the place
please help me, i can't swim!
but no one hears a thing because they are too busy drowning in their own blood.
she steps into her adolescence, full of fresh hopes and dreams; things that are made of sugar
(be careful, too much sugar will ruin you.)
it's day one. a piece of homework is slapped down in front of her.
no complaints (but it's the first day of school!) no, none at all.
the first week passes quickly. the homework piles up.
(and so does the number of rungs you have to climb to reach the top of the social ladder.)
friends are made, numbers exchanged; gossip is whispered secretly, scandalously:
i heard she pays her tuition teacher to do her work for her.
or
did you know that she cuts? poor girl.
there's a sickeningly sweet and artificial taste of cherry all around.
there are different things to study in school, all categorised neatly into different subjects.
but what they never told her was that people could be labelled, too:
that one's a slut; oh, i heard that she's a part time model!; just look at her fat thighs.
there are different boxes for different kinds of people.
some are classified as freaks who sit alone in the corner all day.
some are also classified as the most popular girls in school.
(they call them cliques)
friends are nice. friends are good, she thinks, when she finds out that her classmates took notes for her.
but what she also realises that friends aren't friends. (there's the scent of artificial cherry again)
ugh, she actually scored higher than i did, i bet she cheated;
could you tell me your answer to this question? - oh, i'm not too sure, sorry!
it's just an endless cycle of competing to see who's good enough to stay in the gladiator's pit.
(the stakes go up; are you willing to sacrifice everything for the grades?
what do you want to do in the future?
you should start planning already.
but she doesn't know what to do, because
she's barely finding her feet and standing up; how is she going to map her world?
i just want to live life happily. - that's all?
you don't want to be a little more ambitious?
there might just be a brighter future for you if you work harder.
sometimes, the expectations are crushing.
the pressure rockets sky high:
everything must be perfect. everything must be perfect.
but nobody notices the small ribbons of red that seem little more than mere decorations on skin;
it's nothing, i just scratched myself by accident.
the razor lying by the sink goes unseen.
calories are counted; fats are burnt;
i'm not skinny enough. i have to be skinnier.
but her wrists are bamboo thin and her waist is impossibly tiny; what more could she want?
perfection, she screams. i want perfection.
the world is terrifyingly noisy.
silent screams for help fill the place
please help me, i can't swim!
but no one hears a thing because they are too busy drowning in their own blood.