This is a piece of my creative writing about the loss of youth and the inevitability of growing up, It is accompanied by some original/first hand photography:
Infinite, that is what we were. We were the exception to
the crumbled up society, the outcasts of the school halls. We were the odd ones
out, the ones who wore yellow when everyone wore pink. In a way, we liked that.
The feeling of not being in with the crowd. I remember the years of riding
around with not a care. The years of going to the beaches and dip dying our
hair. We were the exception the odd ones out; we were living for the moment and
making it count. The teenage years were memorable, just you and I, not
forgetting the other four of them tagging along for the ride.



Telling mum I was studying with them, but really, we were
singing and chasing the sun. The warm sand carried us. The seashore was the
pathway to the world to us. The humming of the fireflies as we lit the amber fire,
the laughs, and songs we used to share. The smell of roasted marshmallows
haunting the sweet honey summer air. The teenage years were our best. The magic
still makes me nostalgic. It was what made me, me, and made you, you. It was
the finale that not even we knew. But for that moment we were fine. we were
still kids in our minds.
Soon the tide came in. The seashells that we once collected
began to shatter under our skin. Winter came to fast and froze our young
hearts. School was now all we thought about. Revision books and test papers
replaced our dreams, no more pictures of us to be seen. We began to drift away,
far away. High school had taken over our teenage dream. I was now the nerd and
you the prom king. As for the rest, well they were never to be seen, except for
on the hipster table in the canteen. Our good days had ended and now I was
alone. The memories all seemed like a dream. I wish we could be us again. I
wish we could still dance around the fire or watch the sun and be inspired. It
all seems like it never happened, as if it was never real. Maybe that is the
way it should be as if it was serial.
We were infinite, you and I. we were once free,
and ready to fly. Now we are stuck in the town we call home, never to leave
just stay and grow old. We no longer know one another; in fact, we are
strangers when we pass each other. Maybe I will see you again and remember how
we used to be. but for now, we are memories hidden deep within our teenage
dream.
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