Tuesday.

It’s coming so fast, Tuesday is. I really don’t think I’m ready for graduating, even the unofficial graduation. Although I have another few weeks left, it doesn’t mean it’s symbolic for something much larger. It symbolizes letting go of the hand, taking your first leap, getting your first kill. But oh, if only it were as simple as saying goodbye and taking a flight out of the nest, or providing the next meal for the pack. Instead we have to smile and fight the fears of coming of age, facing monsters outside our doors that collaborate with the ones we all know hide in our closet after hours. We have to lie through the hours and hours of work that mean nothing or spend those same hours doing nothing. Yet we all need a title. We all need to be recognized. But nothing is ever good enough. Someone always has to be better than you, and all the people you’re better than. The fight is on. It’s like a final “Good luck, stick around.” They never finish with a, “So I can see you drown.”

Why do I want this?

Oh, that’s right.

I don’t.