23 May, 2007, 552 pm
Filed under: My Experience with Existence

I must throw an apology out there for my last post, which was done in self-pity, which is an emotion which I disapprove of in myself.  I’m not sure what came over me.  Actually, come to think of it, I know exactly what upset me.  It’s kind of fantastic but lame, and it’s something that I greatly fear, and it made me miserable for about twenty-four hours.  It wasn’t because of Le Grand Concours, not really.  It was something else entirely.  Something before that.  Le Grand Concours just triggered it.

I straightened my hair for the second day in a row today and ran a mile for the third day in a row yesterday.  I’ve lost a small amount of weight, though.  I feel good.  I just need to stop eating those damn ice cream sandwiches after school.  I love them.  But I hate them.

ice cream sandwiches!

I got blood from my knuckle on one side of my shorts and eyeliner from my fingers (because I messed up) on the other side.  I look so scenexcore.  Except not really.  Today, I threw on my Jim Morrison shirt, the one that’s a little large and doesn’t take to shrinking.  For a little glam effect, I threw on my silver flats.  And my black hoodie.  I thought really hard about wearing my bangs out of my face today, letting everyone see that there’s nothing wrong with the left side of my face, but when I’d walked two steps inside the building, I released my hair from the clip that restrained them.  It’s a security thing.

I feel better today for some reason.  When I was little, I used to cry so much that I’d start to hyperventilate, which would somehow calm me down and make me want to go to sleep, and then I’d feel optimistic and fall asleep, knowing that in the morning, it would all be better.  Before yesterday, I hadn’t hyperventilated while crying for years, but it felt good to retain the satisfaction that I was crying about something legitimate that hurt me, and I got to tell my mother about how much I dislike everyone at school, how I despise Richmond, how I hate those rednecks who support the war, and how I haven’t found my niche and never will, and how you have to stand on a soapbox and yell your life story to anyone within a thousand-mile radius in order to get the recognition you deserve.  Except, by the time you’ve accomplished that, you don’t really deserve the recognition anymore.  You’ve already got the confidence you need.  It’s the people who have to listen who deserve that.

WHY do I blog?  It’s a way for people to gently stumble upon someone else’s point of view.  Unlike those coming from the mouth and from the vocal chords of a live person, the words I’m telling you aren’t forced upon you.  You can easily, quietly, gently click the “X” in the corner of the window, or softly press a button to make all light and colour vanish from your monitor and then you’re safe in your room or your office or in your classroom, away from me, freed from whatever I’ve written that you just poured all over your brain.

2 Comments so far
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the yelling off the soapbox thing– i hadn’t quite thought of it like that, i just always felt that people here have some sort of secret checklist that people have to fit all the requirements for before they deem the person worthy of attention. i’ve never fit even one check on the list. i think the soapbox thing goes hand in hand with the checklist. i don’t like it either.

i gotta talk to you at lunch.

Comment by divya

i’m glad your feeling better. about the soap box thing, i see it differently. fact is, you deserve to be heard. if you’re not being heard, kudos for making yourself heard.

very scenexcore. or rather, icecreamsandwichxcore. what an interesting genre for a band.

(oh, i agree, canada makes great music too).

Comment by adam

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