Fuck feeling inadequate. Fuck laying in bed thinking about everything you’re not doing. Fuck feeling like time is running out. Fuck self image. Fuck his perfect face. Fuck your unwashed hair. Fuck not trying hard enough. Fuck the internet. Fuck colds. Fuck being alone. Fuck loneliness. Fuck having to do it all over again tomorrow. Fuck youth. This isn’t youth. This isn’t freedom and weightlessness. Fuck not feeling young. Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck this.
Instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage. Silence. Which says we do not agree. We do not condone. All of this is wrong.