the suburbs (pt. 4)

rococo // arcade fire

growing up in the suburbs, you see people gain and lose their individuality. you watch sense of selves fade and meld from all these different beaming colors into one uniform shade of grey.

it’s sad, really. to see kids whose eyes used to be so wildly and unabashedly optimistic start turning to the same dull sheen that overtook their parents’ eyes all those years ago.

everyone just settles. they settle for in-state colleges and universities because of the scholarship opportunities, or at least a college that’s only a half-hour from the state line. they settle for moving two towns over rather than two states over. no one ever seems to allow themselves the privilege to explore the world outside familiar subdivisions and farmers’ markets.

but me, i’ve never been one to settle. i’ve always been one to dream outside of suburbia. i’ve always blatantly refused even contemplating attending any school anywhere near mississippi. not even ole miss, a school renowned for its writing programs.

i don’t want to be stuck like everyone else is. much like the queen song, i want to break free. i don’t want to be stuck singing the same songs and saying the same things and letting my colors meld into that same shade of grey that everyone else has let themselves be painted in.

i don’t like where i live. i never really have liked where i live. it’s why i came here. and it’s why i want to leave still. i want to see a welcome to mississippi sign for the last time and never once dream of looking back.

now, this doesn’t mean forgetting where i come from. this doesn’t mean leaving my family or my friends behind. it means allowing myself the ability to see more than what’s familiar. it means allowing myself to meet new people and make new friends and form new families. i want to give myself room to breathe, and suburbia has been choking me since the moment i set foot on its well-watered grass.

to me, staying would be conforming, and i’ve never really been much of a conformist. even when i try to fit in with everyone else, the edges just don’t fit right. all of my puzzles pieces are jagged and wrong, probably even from a completely different box.

i’m just trying to find the rest of my puzzle pieces, and they aren’t here.

Author: Madison Cox

madison: known for being very loud and very short and also a little sad. finally embraced her inner hipster. typically can be found listening to music or writing something. very fond of sweaters, hugs, and chucks. thinks capital letters are overrated. enjoys typing like a child but speaking like an adult. really wants to write books one day. View all posts by Madison Cox