My Intermission / End of Act 1

This is the hours of two thirty to four AM.
This is that year of elementary school you can't remember.
This is the fight to keep your eyes open for two hours straight.

Let me explain.
This is my intermission

This time, when the rain fell, I fell with it.
When the water met the ground violently, I hit it too.

I'm like a night sky without the stars now.
I'm the distance between people who were once in love.
I'm an awkward and uncomfortable silence that lasts millennia.

I'm a vessel for all of these feelings and these memories and flashbacks which are sewn into my very soul. Right now, I can't figure out whether the problem is that I'm too full or if I'm too empty.

But either way, it's time for a change.
The curtain is falling on this stage and Act 1 has come to a conclusion.

This is the intermission and do you want to know what that means?
This marks the start of Act 2.

Act two will (hopefully) consist of honesty, more writing and everything.

I used to believe that things could only be good to write about if they were solemn and dark.
My eyes are open now.

Let me tell you something:
I'm tired of putting myself in a box. I'm sick of pretending I'm one thing when really I'm a combination of over a thousand things.

Yes, I'm different. Yes, I fall over the English language like it's a tripwire and yes, I've got emotions that resemble the sound of an approaching train.

But you know what, that doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter.
Because if people have a problem with that... if they don't like me because I'm myself, then screw them.
I'm me and this is my beginning.
This is the end of Act 1