To be me again.

I'm going through this annual phase where I reminisce of the past.
I scroll through old pictures, wanting history to repeat itself.
This time in sheer desperation of old prom pictures, I signed into 'f.r.ster' for my first time in 2 years.
Its surprising really to see that I still have friends, or now acquaintances rather still actively posting up pictures there.

I'm writing this to record my thoughts,
Hopefully something to share with, with my own daughter perhaps, or if it wasn't meant to be, any younger girl growing up.

Kids seem to have this obsession of growing up.
Slapping on make up, going to parties, drinking alcohol mimicking the world of glamourised adults.
They miss what's going on behind that inch thick foundation, those plump juicy lips.
The tears of regret, shame, rejection.

I miss the naivety I once used to have as a child.
I cared, because I genuinely did.
It was not a strategic move of networking, nor was it an attempt at raising my profile.

In pictures I look so tired, beaten up by my own insecurities and fears,
sucked into this world where you're only cool if you listen to certain bands,
making unecessary insignificant conversations whilst holding a concoction of spirits you secretly despise,
pretending to be who I am not to gain acceptance,
in the process losing who I really am.

The smile you sometimes see, a mere misrepresentation of what's really going on inside.

God, help me.
I want to be real again.