I was making a blog post last night but more drama happened. I know this is nobody else's business, seeing that I'm the only one who knows anything about the issue in this post, but I couldn't get myself to open my journal and stain my Ju-ju 23rd post with one loaded with swear on the next page. It's rare that I use swear words anywhere and I don't want to reverse that anytime soon.
I secured myself a year inside a garbage pail with an exaggerated estimate of a hundred people, seventy-five or so of which were rejects from all the other clubs, most notably the Photography Club. I exerted a whole lot of effort into the article I wrote to get into that club but, considering the overpopulation in a club with its maximum members set to twenty-five, it all just seems like a big piece of poop I treated like gold.
I was sitting there, in some desk in IV-5, and I was surrounded by Photography Club rejects. Joining that newspaper club wasn't even in their list of options and yet they were there, as though they did anything and passed. I went through the goddamn needle's eye while they just flowed in and flocked in like some polluted tide. I have zero personal grudges against any of them. In fact, they sit beside me in class. It's just that they don't like the club yet they're all there. It's been proven a million years ago, rotten produce induces premature rotting to other produce.
Do I have to mention the three Year I cliques in the club? This felt a lot like my summer enrichment programs. My mind-set was objective, and I brought none of my friends along. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have been able to. I was the only one who did that, apparently, because I did not expect the possibility of this club being the first real mistake I'll make in high school. Seriously. It's my sick, sad life to flock with people I don't get along with in anything.
As I've mentioned a couple of posts back, my favorite person is in the same club and committee as I am. I'll be seeing her more than I need to. The worst part is she's part of the Editor board and I looked like one of those who did not plan for joining the club. Shame on me? I hid behind the Photography Club rejects (and these are lots of backs) when she came around, which happened twice. I'm that big of a coward and I absolutely hate myself for falling short of her expectations. I think I gave her the wrong impression of me. I rounded the whole school campus after my horrid time in IV-5 just so I could talk to her personally. I didn't find her. But I did see SMUG instead, three times.
You just don't know how happy I was when I got accepted. Now I feel like I've lied. I feel like I rejoiced for nothing. This is what you call moral degradation. That was the first thing I remembered as I woke up. I wished the ceiling would collapse and kill me. I'm no good in anything anymore. All the rejects ruined the value of what I've been wishing for since fourth grade. See? I'm spoiled and rotten now. The only thing I looked forward to in High School is hell all over, and it wouldn't go unless I go. I don't think I'd like to live with this anyway. Who said I'd have to?
(She's a psychological mind-flip. She has to know what I'm talking about without going to this web page. I hope she can read my head because I'm serious and the Softball Club's still open for new members. I need my contract back.)
Your dear friend AM's ought to be asleep by now but she had a minor breakdown at midnight and this other person who may or may not be her is blogging. AM can't sleep and she's pissed. She thought, for exactly thirty-seven days, that maybe she's finally done something significant, something worth mentioning and something worth hearing, but she didn't. And now she feels turd-ish, in tame terms.
I secured myself a year inside a garbage pail with an exaggerated estimate of a hundred people, seventy-five or so of which were rejects from all the other clubs, most notably the Photography Club. I exerted a whole lot of effort into the article I wrote to get into that club but, considering the overpopulation in a club with its maximum members set to twenty-five, it all just seems like a big piece of poop I treated like gold.
I was sitting there, in some desk in IV-5, and I was surrounded by Photography Club rejects. Joining that newspaper club wasn't even in their list of options and yet they were there, as though they did anything and passed. I went through the goddamn needle's eye while they just flowed in and flocked in like some polluted tide. I have zero personal grudges against any of them. In fact, they sit beside me in class. It's just that they don't like the club yet they're all there. It's been proven a million years ago, rotten produce induces premature rotting to other produce.
Do I have to mention the three Year I cliques in the club? This felt a lot like my summer enrichment programs. My mind-set was objective, and I brought none of my friends along. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have been able to. I was the only one who did that, apparently, because I did not expect the possibility of this club being the first real mistake I'll make in high school. Seriously. It's my sick, sad life to flock with people I don't get along with in anything.
As I've mentioned a couple of posts back, my favorite person is in the same club and committee as I am. I'll be seeing her more than I need to. The worst part is she's part of the Editor board and I looked like one of those who did not plan for joining the club. Shame on me? I hid behind the Photography Club rejects (and these are lots of backs) when she came around, which happened twice. I'm that big of a coward and I absolutely hate myself for falling short of her expectations. I think I gave her the wrong impression of me. I rounded the whole school campus after my horrid time in IV-5 just so I could talk to her personally. I didn't find her. But I did see SMUG instead, three times.
You just don't know how happy I was when I got accepted. Now I feel like I've lied. I feel like I rejoiced for nothing. This is what you call moral degradation. That was the first thing I remembered as I woke up. I wished the ceiling would collapse and kill me. I'm no good in anything anymore. All the rejects ruined the value of what I've been wishing for since fourth grade. See? I'm spoiled and rotten now. The only thing I looked forward to in High School is hell all over, and it wouldn't go unless I go. I don't think I'd like to live with this anyway. Who said I'd have to?
(She's a psychological mind-flip. She has to know what I'm talking about without going to this web page. I hope she can read my head because I'm serious and the Softball Club's still open for new members. I need my contract back.)
