— spilled ink p. 2

It's late at night, and J.Cole thrums softly in the background.

"One time for my L.A sisters, one time for my L.A. hoes. / Lame n__ can't tell the difference, one time for a n__ who knows."

To some, it's not new that I disappear and its a phenomenon that occurs. I'm turbulent towards summer's end and I try to do all that I can, I really do. At the end of the day, there aren't enough hours for me to feel truly fulfilled to stay here. Roleplay republic is the monster that swallows your attention for hours, and even after all your laboring you're left wondering, "Where did all these hours leave me?"

I'll be honest, I never felt accomplished here and probably won't ever; hence this place is becoming less and less of a priority but also as my free time diminishes, my motivation to write and rejoice here vanishes. There's no joy in tuning into RPR to the chime of 'choreschoresCHORES'. It's a deafening buzz of negativity a lot fo the time, mainly because althought this place is the cherry on top of the occasional dessert I can indulge in; but for a majority, it's an escape. I don't think RPR should be any less of an escape, really: but how much of an escape is it if you bring all that baggage with you? Forget yourself, create a new you, the stigma and go against the grain. 

What's the use? I'm an not-so-old fart with a bone or two to pick, preaching to the choir. Tch. Shame on me, I guess. 

"Fool me one time, shame on you. Fool me twice, can't put the blame on you. Fool me three times, the peace sign, load the chopper n' let it rain on you."

I'm not bitter. I'm pretty happy actually, but pensive for sure. Summertime sadness? A little. A little sad that I still clung to this place and still rolled into some tough dough and still felt the sadness I always feel around here. 

I'm happier because work went extremely well. I'm happy because I got a surprise facetime from my boyfriend while the dork was taking a bath with a lush bath bomb. I'm happy because college is just a few breaths away again, and I can rise from this cartharsis I feel at home. It's a reminder of everything I couldn't be in high school, a foggy memory of a person I was just years ago, just several roleplays back into the past. I look back on that and look at the leaps and bounds I've improved and yet the question still lingers:

Why haven't I moved on? I suppose I'll know next summer. I'm withdrawing everywhere and really the only thing I'm commited to is kakaotalk (half heartedly; college gets busy so I reply at my own pace) and the art challenges I will continue posting.

And I don't hold my friends or any entities responsible for any of the remorse I feel for sticking around, but I find myself very willing to up and leave. Roleplay Republic reminds me a lot of mozzarella, when it's sitting in front of me: it's delicious, addicting, but gives bad breath. It's exhilarating to chew on but afterwards it leaves your mouth empty: the texture was the best part, and now it's gone, chewed and swallowed. The breath you've got afterwards warrants a brush (maybe two), and ultimately it sits both on your mind and stomach. (I won't deny, it's harder to leave mozzarella cheese than it is RPR...)