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Jess

United States

United States. From soil and soul. Writes bad poetry, reads better books.

Message to Readers

Hi, although my story is not heartbreaking it is still a very special moment to me. I would like to receive peer reviews this weekend, or at least a day before deadline.

Fairy Lights

July 3, 2015

This is what life is about.

It's about spending time on a home-built porch at 9:29pm when it feels like 11. Even though it's the middle of June in "The Golden State", although it's much more dry than golden nowadays, the porch has Christmas lights and it looks so much better than you thought it would. It's about having family and friends over while they are huddled together roasting marshmallows and dancing in a line, laughing and laughing and laughing and for once it doesn't bother you. It's about hearing the laughs, talk of past stories, and chillwave music stirred together. Inside the toddlers are being entertained by Mario Kart and although they are losing, they're winning. It's about sitting on a rental chair alone while you freeze just so you can write this. As the smoke rises, so do our spirits. It's about drinking drinks with 4% alcohol because you don't really care that much. You drink it for the taste, hoping it won't affect you later. It's about prepping all day for these 6 or 7 hours of happiness and thinking, it was worth it. It's about spending probably over $1500 for this party and knowing that it was worth every single penny and more. 

It's not about thinking about what time everyone will leave. Or if we are disturbing our neighbors. Or if we are being bitten by mosquitos as we speak. It's not about worrying or complaining or wishing for better. Because this is IT. This is all we are getting. Because in the end, our days are limited. These are the days worth living and these are the days I look forward to-- the days where it's okay to burn marshmallows and to scream and to listen to tap-worthy music. 

It's about writing all about this while it's happening so you don't forget this moment, hoping no one will ask you what you are doing. Sitting alone in the middle of the porch on  your dad's Mac and not caring how crazy you look because the look you have in your eyes is passion.

Speaking as you write and even though you look crazy it's okay because in the end, they don't care. No one cares. At least in the end. So do you. Shout. Laugh as loud as you want. Dance. Sing off-key. Because these moments matter to you. These memories are for you. Don't lose them to the fear of judgement.

This is what life is all about.

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1 Comment
  • Norah

    I loved this! So real, so poignant.


    over 2 years ago