Ernest Shackleton once said, “we all have our own white South”. In my case, it’s true. I have a place I dream of. It’s a warm place where I can feel free and have no worries. If this day doesn’t get any better I sure as hell want to go there. I know that my white South is a bit different than what normal people would dream of, but why should I care? I’m addicted. My friends are the best, even though my mum, and my dad, and most of my teachers say I have to change my lifestyle or I will completely lose myself. My opinion, however, is that life is great, and none of my friends have any bad influence on me. With them I feel good, and accepted. My parents don’t know anything about my life, but still they say they care. I don’t care for them. Why would I ? They are so different and don’t respect me, so why think about them? It sure beats me! For the time being I will just keep on ignoring their comments and live my life. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to move out and according to my parents I’m not old enough either. But I’m 16. I believe I’m old enough to take care of myself. I can just escape to my white South when I’m struggling. My white South will always protect me and take care of me.
A good feeling!
No worries!
And a possible death!
(In response to several texts where the characters are searching for something.)
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1 comment:
Well said.
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