278: Inspiration

278: Inspiration 

It usually happens at night. Well, very rarely. Someone will mention life after high school and straight away my mind will jump to that undergrad degree at Adelaide…then come the endless hours of researching everything about that degree, how to apply, new pamphlets, how is the new dental clinic, oh it’s amazing. It’s looking at a possible life after high school ends. 
~ Serendipitous 

Advertisements

277: Oh, Just Kidding

277: Oh, Just Kidding

I was right. I always find something to be angry about every day.

Right after I posted 276, I decided to go through my spam folder. If the boy from the past is still reading this, well, I guess you didn’t honour your promise, not that I cared, since we don’t exist to each other anymore, right, and I don’t blame you for being still curious if this girl is alive, really.

Man, oh man, I found your emails. You sneaky bastard. I deleted them after reading them once. I don’t need a second read through or a reminder of who you are. Oh, you were the one who blocked me first? I don’t remember ever feeling like I had been blocked by you. Actually, I was in such a hurry to delete you from my life that perhaps I didn’t notice. Oh, you want to pay me back? Thanks, but no thanks. For me, I like to look at it as if I paid for a movie ticket by myself and went to see the movie myself. If you want to pay me back, you’d have to meet me in real life. And I’ve had enough of you, lol. I’ve had enough of you to last me three lifetimes on this planet. I don’t really remember the rest of your messages. A lot of blaming yourself, more apologies than I’ve ever apologised to my mother about something, a lot of depression and sadness and yeah stuff I can’t handle because of who you are. While I like to be depressed and sad, your style just puts me off my simultaneously the best and worst moods. Boy, you make me so mad. Please don’t ever reply to anything I ever say on my blog ever again, if you’re still reading this. Seriously, it is over. The escapade is over. The story’s final chapter is the one I write, not you. Stop emailing me. Delete my email. You’re such a soft, kind-hearted boy. You fail to see the evil I harbour in me. I told you myself that I was toxic, but you ignored me. Now you’re poisoned, too. You tell me that you’re sorry because you were toxic, too. God, if you trying to guilt-trip me into going to a movie that I joked about going to with you is your definition of toxic, you aren’t ready to see the hurt I’ve caused numerous times to people I love where I didn’t know I was causing that pain. And you sure as hell aren’t ready to see the hurt I cause to my closest ones intentionally with such purposeful hatred and toxicity. It’s nearly killed me. I told you not to get close. Maybe I didn’t. I warned you that I was a bad person. You ignored me.

Well, while I’m thinking about that, my anger subsides. I try not to be a bad person. There is good and bad in all of us, it’s which wolf we choose to feed that shows in our personality. I overfeed the evil wolf at night and when I’m around you. Thank you for taking me out of your life. I would’ve poisoned your soul even further just to push you away.

Oh, just kidding. I found a reason to be angry today.

 

~ Serendipitous

276: Today

276: Today

Well it’s been a while. Today I am seventeen years, three months and three (or four) days old. I am surprisingly calm for someone who has a major assessment due on Monday and having only completed 15% or less of it. I guess you could say it’s the calm before the storm. Productive procrastination before doing the real assessment.

Well, I feel calm. I should be angry about something, though. There’s always something to be angry about now.

 

~ Serendipitous

275: Letters to No One (4)

275: Letters to No One (4)

Look, I don’t know, honestly. Lately I’ve been feeling things again, but only in moderation and only because I needed some sense of normalcy in life. I don’t think I can pull off this emotionally detached facade any longer. Of course, it’s easier this way, to care a little, but…

Anyway that’s not what I came here to say. Or, partly. I go to sleep with tears in my eyes. Doesn’t matter where you are, what you’re doing, who you’re seeing. I don’t know you but I sure as hell am aching over you and why?

 

~ Serendipitous

 

273: Stream of Consciousness (1)

273: Stream of Consciousness (1)

So, uh, this is my first stream of consciousness piece. Well, my first official one, at least. I’ll probably do a lot more of these, just for sorting out my thoughts, thinking about life.

At the moment, it’s 2.41 am. I should be sleeping, but I was in a 4-hour coma after lunchtime. I needed to sleep my Sunday afternoon for some reason. I can’t explain. I don’t know how to. I needed that coma. Fruitful dreams, but I always barely remember them after a while. So I should keep a dream journal, but I never remember to. Mental notes are easy to lose. I was telling myself that I’d get up at half past 6 to handwrite my essay, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. Either I do it now or do it at random points in the day before 1 pm, which is the deadline, well, more or less. My fingers are cold and would rather type on this clunky, awkward external keyboard. The h, n, y and 6 key on my laptop keyboard are broken. Usually jackhammering any of them will eventually wake them up, but it doesn’t seem to h ave worked for the past few days, so I was forced to get an external keyboard. Oh well.

Hard at work making this stream of consciousness piece work. On my second screen are my physics notes, which I have been working hard to keep neat and free of mistakes, and ready for final exams in 2 months. I should be focusing on my English Extension major work though – that’s due next week. But English Extension is so painful, and postcolonialism is so painful, and hegemony…eurgh, that’s why I started early. I always get the most done on the first day I start on any long-term project. I wish I could keep up that momentum throughout the entire duration of the project though. Ah, it will all be over soon, one day..442 or 441 days until the first week of the HSC for me? I don’t know. I’m counting down the days…but I should be counting down while doing something productive with my life. Yes. I think I’ll be writing a novel after my HSC is over. But not based on my Stocks Prize assessment. I got a poor mark for it, sigh. Something wrong with the guidelines, or maybe I wasn’t sure what the system wanted from me and giving my heart to the words wasn’t enough because I’m not skilled enough. Also, some clever bitches in my grade were badmouthing it, and of course, never let people get to your heads, but I knew that in my heart it was all shit and they were right, so yeah, not basing my novel on that stupid short story. I was never made for short stories. Was I ever made for anything? Sometimes I wonder if I would be better off with fewer wits than I do now, better off just being in a normal high school with normal high school things going on around me and just being a normal student and trying to survive these big tests and do something normal at university, maybe English literature (yeah, I know, I said English Extension was painful, but somehow I have that romantic idea of English literature at university), or maybe communications. Journalism is hard for non-white people to get into though, at least I don’t see very many non-white people as news anchors. I don’t know why I’m worried about that though. If I had fewer wits I could get a decent paying job as a person with some kind of occupation and I could live just fine, but would I be happy? Would I really be happy being so wilfully ignorant and having few opinions and having few wits? It really bugs me every day, in the back of my mind. People tell me that it’s good I have so much potential, that I could do whatever I wanted, that I was smart enough to and exhibited all signs of growing a happy baby. Yeah, that was fifteen years ago. Sounds like a long time but that was basically my whole life. I’m seventeen and three months. I feel like I would be better off happy if I was dumber and didn’t have so much potential. Knowing too much, trying to know too much or be the best, eventually it wears down on you. I know I cannot hope to ever be the best. It’s hard to believe something like that when you go to a school full of girls with just about the same, if not more, potential as you and that scares me. Is this environment healthy? It’s safe, at least no one is openly doing drugs or being violent, but am I going to be safe forever? The real world isn’t like the high school I’m in. There are people out there who will go around being violent because they think it’s fun. There are people out there who look down on us because they think we’re better than them and they don’t like that. There is always going to be someone out there who is either better than you and they don’t like you because you’re worse, or you’re better than them and they don’t like you because they’re worse. So what am I going to do when I leave school? I will meet these people. I want to figure out how to deal with them without getting hurt. I want to meet a variety of people, not just the people in my high school. In my high school, we’re all girls. We’re all called smart. We’re all given the same blessed opportunities by teachers who want the best for us. Maybe. I don’t know. I guess there is some variety with us, but everyone is a good person at heart. I want to meet somebody bad, someone with hateful intentions, yeah, it won’t be safe, but where will I get that life experience for myself and get myself an anecdote to tell my children? Yeah, thinking about children already and I’m only seventeen and I’ve only been kissed once and I consider myself emotionally unavailable yet I crave the love and affection of a man who is not my father and what do I do? I’m crazy. I’m really crazy. I purposefully stuff up my sleeping patterns so I can stay up late and be creative because I still want to be creative even if the burden of academia is constantly on my shoulders. Oh, and looking up from the last line of every letter I’m typing I realise this is very long and my word count is telling me that it’s more than a thousand words. So I guess I’m going to post this and browse the Internet, read some Reddit /r/nosleep and write a few more words for my science notes. I don’t have Maths class tomorrow so I don’t have to worry about not doing the homework on time. I’m probably ten exercises behind still, but I’ll catch up eventually. This was fun, I’ll do it again sometime. Goodnight.

 

~ Serendipitous