nearing the sun

summers are no good for selfish people. my life has become a monologue, a single walk through a park plus occasional chats with bystanders along the way. never stop though. talk to them, make a dialogue, but keep moving. my life never stops. my consciousness is constant. and i am always there. if life were a movie, i would be the star. ive been in every frame since it began. nineteen years, four months, and four days. and it goes up until this very moment. now this one. and this one. and im still here. narrating, and filming, and editing (or trying to), and realizing what i can and cant write. what i can and cant change. in both of those cases, mostly cant. but when other people are trampling all over my film, it’s easier for me to remember that other people are making their own movies, and im just a character- from innocent bystander to aquaintance to supporting actress- in their own films. when it’s just me for so long though, i seem to forget about all the filmmaking going on around me. mine is the only one that exists, and other people exist only when they appear on the screen. no green room. no waiting area. like valentino. they exist to walk across my life, maybe once a day, maybe once in a lifetime, and when they are not doing that, they simply… disappear. right? dont they? even you. you exist to make me better, right? you exist to give me reasons to be happy and sad and disappointed and hopeful. and when you arent being used like that in my emotions… you cease to exist. and some of you are the main players. just think about all the extras. they are lucky just to get a walk-in. or, god forbid, a cameo. and the bystanders… what a sad existence. and god? what does that make him?
summers are no good for selfish people.
besides that... think about it. i know im not alone here.