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Postcard from Heaven
It's time to say that I've had enough of you. You think that all you're doing is enough, well it isn't. I've yet to remember a time when you truly fulfilled your duty and there's no way we can trust you to do the things you've promised to. I know I've got it easy, I'm so much luckier than so many other people. If I talk to others, they're basically going to be two-faced, saying niceties but thinking I'm a spoilt brat underneath that. I'm rarely ever cynical, but with things like this, you won't find someone who's more suspicious.
Enough of emo talk for today.
Too. Much. Work. Okay, enough of that as well.
Exams in 68 days. Prepared? haha, you've got to be kidding.
Need to learn to think on my feet when sorting out priorities.
Need to learn to think on my feet. Full stop.
Need to get more sleep on a more regular basis.
I realise one thing I'm great at, is at getting over things. I mean, they might not be over yet, but I won't be thinking too much about them and won't be too upset about them for long. Just a few minutes.
Blinking about 50 times a minute just to stay awake. Past 4 days added together, I've had about 10 hours sleep. Hah, thank God it's the weekend. From here on, it's full steam ahead till the mocks and then the final thing. Too. Much. Work. Anyway, need to make a call at 1125pm to wish the hockers good luck. (: Miss them and I'd give almost anything to be there supporting them. It's strange how I always seem to have so much faith for others. Sometimes I wonder whether it's used up purely to support others, leaving little for myself.
It's so easy to take things as they are on the surface, without looking underneath. It's so easy to flame someone for acting a certain way without considering why; so easy to jump to conclusions based only on what you know. There's always more to the story than you're aware of. I said once that a friend is someone who tries his/her best to understand. A friend is someone who cares enough to notice your ups and downs, who doesn't jump to conclusions. I hate it when people tell me about me, thinking they're completely right when they're really not.
It's seems like I'm always going and going, never stopping to take a breather, or to smell the flowers. I've got a vague direction but it's not enough anymore. There's been so much to do I simply haven't been able to stop. To reflect, to relax. Nothing
matter except the most immediate. It's not about managing your time, there just isn't enough. I'm freaking out over entrance exams tomorrow. Not as if I really want to go there, I just need..
to tell me that I am worth something. That I can be better than I already am.
Entrances today were fine. Yesterday wasn't really a very good day. Felt all the stress and suddenly pressure got a bit too much. & for the first time I found the courage to open up, I did so to one of my "good friends" in this country who ended up judging me. I wish I'd think before I say anything. I've never been great at articulating thoughts close to heart; the words always come out wrong. Ah well. There's always a side of the story you don't know. Somehow, whenever it really matters, I'm never able to articulate my thoughts.
Everyone's going through the same things, I don't really see what I'm complaining about. I mean, we've all got pretty much the same amount of work, but who knows, personally, others probably've got bigger problems than I do. Rehearsals every day after school for the next 2 weeks. I wouldn't really mind it except that I'm not doing anything important and there's actually NO student input in the whole thing. There isn't a sense of accomplishment, we're just IN the musical, it isn't OURS. Waste. Of. Time. Don't. Have. Enough; Need. More. Sleep. & none of us can afford it.
I'm kind of missing my old school a lot. Not specific people, just the general atmosphere, spirit, what we were all about. Sometimes when you're so tired, you get these little moments when you can't figure out whether you're really awake or whether you're asleep, and in those times it's like I'm hovering in an alternate dimension, between the past and present. I can't believe that I'm here, in the UK, but at the same time, that's much more than a reality. I miss my old school, the spirit, companionship. How you almost always knew that you were not alone.
Wisps of smoke, blue-white cloud, sands of time flowing in the hour glass. The tangible zest of success. Flowing speech, smoothly-blended paint. Before, I used to want to be invisible, someone whose prescence was felt but hardly ever seen. I used to wish for a life when I was like some sort of ghost, always present but never really there. I used to be able to feel success, just an arm's length away. Now, I'm here, solid as a rock. Always here, with the future stretching out ahead as if it will never come. For the first time, I'm inadequate.
I know everyone's got different priorities. My viewpoint may be completely different from others'. What I don't get is how people can be
short sighted. Because during their all-too crucial moments, consuming their thoughts are relationships that have been souring for the past fifty billion years. They're always mulling over and getting depressed because of the same person, over the most trivial matters. Talk about obsession. I mean, I get upset if one of my friendships is somehow harmed, but I would never throw away my future like that. When it all boils down, I suppose I'm just disappointed.
Second to seventh interviews I've ever had, and I must say that most of them went unexpectedly well. I've never really been very articulate in speech, especially with these almost spur of the moment type things, but today was much better than expected. I highly doubt I'll get selected, and if I do, I highly doubt I'll get that scholarship. Having said that, I still really want to get in. I'm not sure whether it's for the right reasons, and if I do, I'm clueless as to whether I'll accept the offer. But nonetheless, let's just hope for the best.
I. WANT. TO. HAVE. A. TANTRUM. Oh fuck there's too much to do and for the first time in my life I thoroughly hate school. Doesn't help that everything else is happenning at the same time, all too rapidly. & for once I've been fucking unreliable and I hate it because that's one of the only good traits I've got. What the shite I hate it, there's too facking much to do and none of them isn't important. It's not as if I haven't been trying; I've been giving the best I've got. Need to stop feeling sorry for myself.
At this point I'm torn between telling someone what's really been going on; continue with a muted kind of half-misery, or just forgetting about it and stop feeling sorry for myself. Do my work and pretend it's only stress that's getting to me. I guess I really want to share; it's just that I'm so afraid of what they might think. And it wouldn't really be fair to them because even though deep down, I know that I CAN trust them, it's hard for me to actually do that. Because after all this time, I'm still very much a coward.
Swear on your life, never to say the S word, the C word. Never say the D word, never mention "Oh god I've just screwed the whole thing up". You'll be condemned. And for goodness sake, NEVER NEVER EVER EVER say the F word. I was a fat little idealist, cowardly, sticking rigidly to the rules. The person everyone loved, but really would've loved to hate. Hypocritical, if you're great, be my friend. The moment you go just slightly awry, I'm never talking to you again. I've come a million miles since, but I'm still very much who I was.
If I weren't a pushover, she'd never have asked me. I'm so used to this, I never think of saying, "No". Everyone's been telling me she's not worth helping, but I can't help it. She might not have put in the effort, but everyone else has and I'm not going to let her destroy the whole thing; as a cast, we're not going to let the teachers down. It's our job to work together, if she doesn't appreciate the help, so be it. It's not about her getting into trouble; it's about making the production the best it can be.
One down, two to go. Can't wait till it's over, but it was really fun today. For the first time, everyone was really enthusiastic. I still think the directors approached the entire performance in the wrong way, but I guess we knew what was at stake tonight. It was good, response was good. Haha Best history teacher I've ever had came to watch it; he left last year. Was good speaking to him again, and it's nice to know he hasn't forgotten us and how he
prefers us to the school he's at now. HAH. God I'm so smug.
Sometimes it's difficult to fathom how other people could understand what you're going through. It seems impossible that their experiences could have been similar to yours, how they might have experienced emotions so much more intense than the ones you are experiencing. At a glance, it's difficult to imagine how, say, a stranger might be feeling at a glance if they don't show what they're feeling on their faces. Only close observance will be able to tell you that. As Man, we have evolved into such complex creatures, but it's amazing how simple it is when it all boils down.
It's so easy to think that once some big event is over, time stops and nothing continues. Performance is finally over, and after the weeks of effort put in, I don't feel very much, except a great relief. I'm glad it's over. It was fun while it lasted, but it isn't that significant. At this point, I just want life to pause at this moment, just so that I don't have to go on. After this, it's full on mugging for the exams and hockey all the way. Fitness is down the drain, same to skills and studies. Pause please?
Nearly sixteen and it's getting more difficult to break me. Wouldn't say I'm streetwise, wouldn't say I've got a thorough knowledge of who I am, or what the world is like. Nearly sixteen and still very much a hermit, living under a rock. Nearly sixteen, all the love but not the trust to give. Nearly sixteen, and I'm everything and nothing all at once. Nearly sixteen, stuck in a limbo, unsure of what's coming next. Nearly sixteen, with not a lot to offer.
Recently I've found that it takes so much to break me, sometimes I hate who I've become.
Where I come from, everyone is sheltered, protected behind an invisible wall of oblivion, safety. I finally realised what a fake security it was. While wars were going on some place else, everyone around me was getting upset over the smallest insecurities; forever up and down over the smallest things - relationships, petty insults. Even now, people older than me, people I once respected with all my heart, are only concerned about relationship issues, boyfriends, girlfriends, forever failing friendships. Not even Os can draw them away, no tsunami can deter them from their path of self pity. How pathetic, sometimes.
I was angry with my friend;
I told my wrath - my wrath did end.
I was angry with my foe;
I told it not - my wrath did grow.
Bitterness can silence these emotions, getting too much too fast. I'm too young to be bitter, we're all too young to feel this exhausted. I'm wondering what to do with Me #2, the one who's been acting completely out of character. It's been a week or two, I'm getting sick of Me #2, and no one should have to put up with it. I'm thinking, self pity isn't good enough.
"I'd like to do this."
"ARE YOU SURE?"
"I know it's complicated, I know I'm not good enough but I want to give it a try."
"ARE YOU SURE?
"I should do something. I mean, this is part of MY costume."
"Are you sure you won't make a mess?"
"Did this last night!"
God it's so bad.
I'm going to try doing this!."
"Are you sure? You're not very patient."
Don't. Judge. Me.
The more you judge, the less I'll trust, the less you'll get.
Would it kill you to show me some faith?
"What's up?" She asked, walking towards her.
She stared at her, uncomprehending.
"Come on, I know something's wrong."
"I'd do it if you did."
"Well, that's because you know I'll
be more enthusiastic & make a much bigger fool of myself."
"Because who we are is what we're
when we least expect it. I can't tell you what's bugging me. I
tell you if I was stressed out, because I know that can be resolved. But I can't find a way out of this, I don't see the end in sight. There isn't a clear-cut solution."
When you put your iTunes on shuffle while concentrating on something else, you zone out of your music and only after a while do you finally remember that music's playing. Was just cleaning my guineas, found Cake had miscarriaged. Four babies. Four. Oh fack, I'm such a horrible owner. I take back all the times I felt annoyed because someone didn't have faith in me. God, I'm so so sorry baby. Started thinking about it, and everything else that's been going on, and realised Matchbox Twenty's Unwell was playing. I've had enough of self-pity, but it never seems to end.
You want to congratulate yourself for coming this far, but with still such a long way to go, you're afraid to jinx it, you don't want to say a word. This morning, I woke up and I thought, it's time to get my act together. So I did. I wrote down all I wanted to do, all I wanted to achieve this year. I thought about where I wanted to be this time next year, the people around me. I thought about what was important to me. In just five minutes, I realised what I have do with Me #2.
Nothing can compare to the thrill and delight you feel when someone tells you that for some unfathomable reason, you have inspired them. That you're one person who can give them the Drive to go for their dreams, the motivation to go on each day, no matter how tough it gets. We're constantly searching for answers, inspiration to go on when the going gets tough, and it's just so amazing to know that for someone, just one person, you are that source of encouragement. What's makes it even more magical is that I gather inspiration from the very same person.
Looking up, it was pitched black. I walked from the Astroturf, swinging my jumper over my shoulder, loosely gripping my hockey stick. T'was a chilly night, but I was far from cold. For the first time I can remember, I wasn't beating myself up about a horrible training session. I feel such an intruder - different from everyone else. I never will be part of the so-called "cool" crew. I don't want to. But I promised myself I'd attend training.
, once rehearsals were over. And I haven't broken it. Yet. Looking up, the stars lit up the sky.
Part 1 of 2:
Every heart and every soul tells a story. Every mind shows a map. A map of the person it controls. And when something drastic happens, when some big decision has to be made, the map is opened. The soul within is revealed. The map with all the tiny, criss-crossing lines labeled as "Friends". The lines labeled as "Happy Times". The lines labeled as "Sad Times". The lines labeled as "Promises", "Lost Respect". Some come to abrupt halts while some end, promising and gay. There are also those which lead off the map to nowhere.
Results Day tomorrow, bittersweet joy, anticipation, nonchalant(ness). At times, I really couldn't care less, but then I imagine saying, "I got in". And the anticipation just leaps forward. Sometimes the mixture of the two overwhelms and I think, "God damn it". Yeah, it would've been great if I simply hadn't applied. At the expense of expectations. But I know that if I hadn't, I'd always be wondering, "What If..?" It's at times like these, I hate myself for being who I am.
"... A mural to stare at in the deepest recesses of night. Darkness within darkness, overshadowed.
So many people have been saying I should go for it. Even pursue it to University, go be a psychologist or therapist of some sort. Forget law, medicine& street cleaner. Forget expectations, self-doubts. Be who I want to be. But what happens when they don't see the whole picture? How I'm never sure of what I think, easily changeable my opinions are. The difficulties I find in opening up, sharing what I think, sometimes, even how I feel. All they saw was that ONE night in Swannage. The one and only night. Psychology, eh? Interest is there. What about ability?
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