[28] diary of a (former) gifted kid
I'm a shy, quiet girl that teachers mistook as mature. Nah, I'm not. I'm just quiet, ma'am. It was easier to navigate school while being studious and quiet. Like I forgot how to talk. Good academic achievement, as much as I'm grateful for that, I felt like adulthood made me ran out of luck. Maybe I have put less effort, or maybe it just got harder. Now, being quiet also means nothing. A bit too late to change but not too late to blossom into something else, far from the path that I thought I have. I have burnt myself down when I was young, now I'm collecting ashes to create my own statue, but I can't sculpt nor a sculptor.
The last choice I have is to dig, with my own hands, bury the ashes and walk away, to the pathless forest until I can build a village somewhere.
out of luck,
reesa