Hello to 1:43 am

     Hello. My name is Clare. I'm just 17 years old, only 11 more months 'til I'm an adult.

     I haven't written a blog since I was 13. I read the blog of an old friend of mine recently and something made me want to try it again, even though the post I read was nearly the opposite of inspiring. I don't know why I'm writing this, and maybe I'll never touch this blog again. Maybe all I wanted to do was to say hello to 1:43 in the morning.

     So hello. How are you? Are you as tired as I am? 

     I live in the mountains. It's a strange place to be. Nothing ever stays the same and nothing ever changes. It's the most beautiful place on earth. Or it would be, if everything weren't tinged with sadness. The leaves are beautiful but the air is weighted. Or maybe it's just burdened with my memories and that's why it feels this way to me. It's late and I'm fumbling a little. I'm hardly a poet.

     My life is strange. I wont get bogged down in the details; all you need to know is that it is strange. And overwhelming. I'm 17 and trying to figure out who I am in the context of regular society. But it seems I'm living in a different world, so how do I define who I am in the normal world if I live somewhere so displaced from reality? I think I'm floating in between different lives in an attempt to find the life that I want. Floating is peaceful in a way but also chaotic. I wont lie, I'm afraid. I'm floating between two worlds that I know aren't for me, and it would seem there's nowhere else to go. I don't want to float my whole life, there's no one else out here. But the gravity that effects them refuses to work on me, and I fly past opportunities without even knowing it.

     Maybe this is what highschool is like, or maybe it's who I am. 

     What are your thoughts, 1:43 am?