Expectations

Fin each(prenominal)y, the blade deepens and hits just right, the scar of what the doubtful and painful tongue has left me insecure and filled with emptiness. The sparks of love I had was weak and fire low, it soon became a weapon that only caused me harm. This body soon became an unload vessel searching for a purpose in this constant non-fiction world. trounce tock, tick tock, the clock goes, teachers writing riddles on the board, speaking of a orthogonal language that I cannot comprehend.Various noises filled the classroom, speaking of gibberish as I sit in this isolated bubble of my own. Surviving in this vessel, searching for a purpose- no, but rather waiting to be re-wired and commanded mean solar day by day. I love the languages subjects so I am fair good at it, but I hate maths and sciences, consequently I am bad at it.With no further comments I scanned through the whiteboard, but incessantlyyday I worry on how sight kept instructing me how to grow as a person giving me options on whats right and wrong, but in the end, the things that I provide choose will forever be false.Everyday, I detect to have a diddle that is always incomplete I stare at the blank share of paper reflecting about my life. With not much personality as an individual, therefrom I do not find it as an inconvenience to succeed in this school.As time continued to pass by, I realise that Im currently stuck in a never ending cycle of hypnotism, reel through the equal 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 motley with rainbows.Thus in the morning, I would wake up with da rk ring 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 in all disappear. Staggering through the same hallways, towards an empty seat, one far from the sunlight, but rays still 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 down my confidence 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 keep repeating those lyric in my mind, as I stare at that incomplete work, reminding me about responsibilities, victor, achievements, grades, and so on, and every time I climb back up, your words kept knocking down my stance, chaining me down, to expectations, that I cann ot achieve.Expectations and dreams, which are so expectant 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 first place? If this is whats it feels like, then I just want to stop. The path they build for me is dictated to be perfect and filled with fine lies.Feeding me with expectations, rewiring my senses, choking me with perfection. I cannot breathe, I feel nauseous. My body cannot hold open 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.