"I'd be lying if said I didn't miss you, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't care."
- Cyberbully Mom Club
These pictures were from earlier this month, when I came home for reading week. I visited my high school, I went to the forest and to the lake with Quinn and Isabeau.
I always question the current state of procedures at my high school with an unsatisfiable persistence. When attending high school, I would sit in the same spot in the cafeteria, look out the same window, and see the same view, the only change being the season and year. I would consciously be aware of the fact I would not see that view everyday at some point in my life, and I dreaded this. I dreaded time moving on, and that I would still be lingering in the past. Me, Point B, rushing about trying to tie a new belay, while a new generation settles into the one tied for them, unappreciative of its delicacy. My high school, Point A, remaining still and tending to these new students with a hardy patience.
The lake and the forest were nothing but experiences empty of adolescent excitement, and full of adulthood's realities; a tiny shimmer of adventure, put off by the inevitable reality that exists outside of our teenage fantasies. In a desperate attempt to remember a youthful sensation that once burned so intensely, I beg for photographs.
OCT. 23. 2014.