An Exercise in Self-Doubt
Well, it’s begun. School has, I mean. After the hectic first day, we are all resigning ourselves to our fates and ordering special-made-student-size coffins settling ourselves down to a long, hard, grueling four weeks of pure torture. After which, we will all be doomed with the ultimate presence in school life, the FCTs. Fucking common TESTS. How absolutely Delightful.
But why am I touching on such depressing issues? Oh right, because every teacher we have had so far has seen it fit to remind us of this fact. Like we haven’t already been scared half to death by the sheer amount of homework that has been piling up due to the remnants of untouched holiday assignments. Well, that partly is my fault, but still.
Right, I think I will shut up now about these stupid things because I have matured, and being mature, I must understand that such tragedies will happen often and regularly in life, and I will have to find some way of staying alive during FCT week somehow. I am sixteen, after all. Godammit I am not a teen anymor - I know I’m still a teen technically, but um, I refuse to act like one. I am like, gonna be so effing cool and grown-up and zomg! make everyone respect me! I will earn tons of big bucks and then I will treat all ma buddies to ice-cream at some cheap lil’ rut so I can save even MORE!
Oh god. I guess typing that is proof I have not yet grown up. And to give things an even more humiliating twist, here is what my 2007 New Year’s resolution was about. Ahem. Here goes: To change my entire set of behaviors so to as to suit a brand, new image that was to be the brand, new *shiny, sparkly, glittery* Me. The list went on to include lots of Don’ts; I was to not freak out, not to express excitement, not to express glee, not to express sulkiness and certainly not to explode. In a bad situation I would express my thoughts in a calm controlled tight little voice and if that failed, I was to walk away or shut the fuck up. On joyous occasions I would plaster a smile on my face, and express my happiness by just saying so. In one sentence preferably, like, “That’s awesome.” Or “I would love to.” Or “I’m glad to hear that.”
After New Year’s Day was over, I proceeded to break every single one of them resolutions methodically and unintentionally. I mean, come on, I was the complete opposite of what I wanted to be. I freaked out in the MAJOR-est FREAK-OUT SESSION EVER, gave stupid little squeals when I was excited, ditto when I was glad, and sulked obsessively when things didn’t go my way. In bad situations the waves of ill intention that came roiling off me could practically be seen, and I definitely did NOT keep my trap shut. Actually, I couldn’t bring myself to. And on joyous occasions… I became unbearably, sickeningly loud, even to my own ears.
I am a failure at life. Right? That’s what I thought.
Until I realized that some things cannot be changed utterly. I would still be myself, no matter what and how I tried to do otherwise, and the key was to exercise MODERATION. So having seen that, all I did was add “too obviously” to the end of each resolution, and voila, it worked fine. At least, I think it did.
And if it didn’t work, SCREW THE WHOLE DAMN RESOLUTION SHIT AND SHOVE IT UP A FUCKING TREE.
Because the New Me will always be lil’ ol’ me in disguise. As such, I rest my case.