[The old, old, old February AM is back.]
I don't know what I want to happen. Sometimes I just want to drop dead in the middle of crossing an alley and just slip out of existence and out of everybody's memory. I'm barely as significant as the tires of my dad's car these days and the prospect of going back to school in June is a growing thorn to my viscera.
I don't mind studying. The other side of high school, which is mostly unspoken of by the authorities, is what I'm fearing. That's an unfortunately expandable topic. The Notria Damne Bastardias do exist in the modern times and I fear, being nothing striking, that I will be figuratively pushed around and around and around until my face hits the dirt their soles would set on. The Massively Rude People and Notria Damne Bastardias would have the last say about what matters and what doesn't as though they're the Julius Caesars of this generation. What happens to the people who are there to actually just study? Everyone's at school to do that but my God, sometimes some people really make education a lost cause.
And do I need to mention the inevitable back wounds?
You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends,
Pontificating to each other
Forever competing for that one moment of self-aggrandizing glory
In which you hog the intellectual spotlight
Holding dominion over the entire shallow, pointless conversation
Oh, we're not worthy!
When you walk by a group of quote unquote normal people
You chuckle to yourself, patting yourself on the back as you scoff
I think I listen to the above Say Anything lyrics too much. I might need to go back to Katy Perry. Or maybe it's just me.
A self-renounced fascist friend of mine says I have a crippling case of inferiority complex. It's some kind of psychological thing when you're fazed by thoughts of being less than everyone else, hence leading to either timidity or aggression. She's no doctor or whatever but I'm convinced I know myself enough to actually nod to her hypothesis. Maybe that's the goddamn answer to all the golden questions (e.g. WTF aren't you talking?) of the people who don't actually know me. I have no definite control over it, it seems, but I don't really mind admitting to this little blog that I might have it because it makes me feel normal and a little bit hopeful that maybe awareness would shoo it away.
You don't believe me. I won't believe me either. Blah, blah, blah.
This post makes me feel bad. I don't even know why I started this. I might as well go.
I don't know what I want to happen. Sometimes I just want to drop dead in the middle of crossing an alley and just slip out of existence and out of everybody's memory. I'm barely as significant as the tires of my dad's car these days and the prospect of going back to school in June is a growing thorn to my viscera.
I don't mind studying. The other side of high school, which is mostly unspoken of by the authorities, is what I'm fearing. That's an unfortunately expandable topic. The Notria Damne Bastardias do exist in the modern times and I fear, being nothing striking, that I will be figuratively pushed around and around and around until my face hits the dirt their soles would set on. The Massively Rude People and Notria Damne Bastardias would have the last say about what matters and what doesn't as though they're the Julius Caesars of this generation. What happens to the people who are there to actually just study? Everyone's at school to do that but my God, sometimes some people really make education a lost cause.
And do I need to mention the inevitable back wounds?
You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends,
Pontificating to each other
Forever competing for that one moment of self-aggrandizing glory
In which you hog the intellectual spotlight
Holding dominion over the entire shallow, pointless conversation
Oh, we're not worthy!
When you walk by a group of quote unquote normal people
You chuckle to yourself, patting yourself on the back as you scoff
I think I listen to the above Say Anything lyrics too much. I might need to go back to Katy Perry. Or maybe it's just me.
A self-renounced fascist friend of mine says I have a crippling case of inferiority complex. It's some kind of psychological thing when you're fazed by thoughts of being less than everyone else, hence leading to either timidity or aggression. She's no doctor or whatever but I'm convinced I know myself enough to actually nod to her hypothesis. Maybe that's the goddamn answer to all the golden questions (e.g. WTF aren't you talking?) of the people who don't actually know me. I have no definite control over it, it seems, but I don't really mind admitting to this little blog that I might have it because it makes me feel normal and a little bit hopeful that maybe awareness would shoo it away.
You don't believe me. I won't believe me either. Blah, blah, blah.
This post makes me feel bad. I don't even know why I started this. I might as well go.
