what jobs can stupid people do.
So this is it. The end of the line.
She talked to me today about what kind of classes I should be taking this year. Whether or not I was going the right direction or I knew where I was going. Of course I don't know where I'm going. That's one of my biggest problems.
I have two large problems. In my life, I mean.
But, oh, please. Mother would never let a writer get their claws into her prestigious expectations. I must be a marketer or an economist or a business lady or a technician or an engineer someone like her. Sorry, ma, but I'm not a superhero (fuck) and nor am I a superstar who's going to land millions and millions of dollars a year to give you and dad the vacations of a lifetime. You're stuck with me. Deal with it.
I can't believe I offered to go out for coffee with her just an hour ago.
You know, I watched Brave recently and Merida and her mum just got along so well at the end and Merida was so focused and so determined to bring her mother back to her after she was turned into a bear. To me, it just seemed like a perfect mother-daughter relationship in which they love each other. I've been through this millions of times in my head but I just can't imagine myself in that role. With my mom. Oh, it's not her fault, not at all. This is one of those things where, it's not you, it's me. And it actually is me. Me and my hubris, as a matter of fact.
"I don't need love, I don't need a mother, I don't need any of you, so go ahead and leave me alone."
I have the toughest skin (relatively speaking) in the family and possibly in my grade. Periods are bothersome but I am a badass who can flick away pain when I want to. Friends? Sure, but just don't cling.
I'm problematic and I love it. But these problems are going to bite me in the ass if I don't…
…straighten out and fit into the crowd. Do the college thing. Look up universities and courses and jobs and the like. What fun is that? And why would you live if you're not having fun? I'm not going to go through this. I'm through with thinking about the purpose of living and what is life because who gives an actual shit at the end of the day?
I'm going to suck it in for the rest of the afternoon and do what mum told me to do. I'm going to jump head first into this university thing because for all I know, if I choose something that has to do with script-writing or just writing, I might end up spending my inevitable "college" days in my apartment or dorm or whatever college students live in today and write all the fanfic I want to.
'Cause that is truly the only thing I am content with doing for the rest of my life. Music is a no-go now. I was never meant to be a music person. That's definitely my brother. Science and technical engineering? Boo-hoo. Look at me, I'm a mess. Can't even wrap my head around simple trigonometry without asking for help. But creating things? Writing them down? Mixing words in a pot and coming up with rainbows? Well, fuck it. Being inventive and creative in the sense that I'm weaving new, magical words with my own fingers on the keyboard? That's me. That's what I can do.
I just hope there's a job out there for that.
Unlikely!
She talked to me today about what kind of classes I should be taking this year. Whether or not I was going the right direction or I knew where I was going. Of course I don't know where I'm going. That's one of my biggest problems.
I have two large problems. In my life, I mean.
- hubris, in which I think I'm a god-given gift and I can do any- and everything and I don't need anyone's help and I am the master, lalalala. All of that. Everything gets to my head and I don't want anyone to help me and I figure the world's just a small planet, what could it possibly do to hurt me?
- inconclusiveness, in which I never, ever, ever know exactly what I want.
But, oh, please. Mother would never let a writer get their claws into her prestigious expectations. I must be a marketer or an economist or a business lady or a technician or an engineer someone like her. Sorry, ma, but I'm not a superhero (fuck) and nor am I a superstar who's going to land millions and millions of dollars a year to give you and dad the vacations of a lifetime. You're stuck with me. Deal with it.
I can't believe I offered to go out for coffee with her just an hour ago.
You know, I watched Brave recently and Merida and her mum just got along so well at the end and Merida was so focused and so determined to bring her mother back to her after she was turned into a bear. To me, it just seemed like a perfect mother-daughter relationship in which they love each other. I've been through this millions of times in my head but I just can't imagine myself in that role. With my mom. Oh, it's not her fault, not at all. This is one of those things where, it's not you, it's me. And it actually is me. Me and my hubris, as a matter of fact.
"I don't need love, I don't need a mother, I don't need any of you, so go ahead and leave me alone."
I have the toughest skin (relatively speaking) in the family and possibly in my grade. Periods are bothersome but I am a badass who can flick away pain when I want to. Friends? Sure, but just don't cling.
I'm problematic and I love it. But these problems are going to bite me in the ass if I don't…
…straighten out and fit into the crowd. Do the college thing. Look up universities and courses and jobs and the like. What fun is that? And why would you live if you're not having fun? I'm not going to go through this. I'm through with thinking about the purpose of living and what is life because who gives an actual shit at the end of the day?
I'm going to suck it in for the rest of the afternoon and do what mum told me to do. I'm going to jump head first into this university thing because for all I know, if I choose something that has to do with script-writing or just writing, I might end up spending my inevitable "college" days in my apartment or dorm or whatever college students live in today and write all the fanfic I want to.
'Cause that is truly the only thing I am content with doing for the rest of my life. Music is a no-go now. I was never meant to be a music person. That's definitely my brother. Science and technical engineering? Boo-hoo. Look at me, I'm a mess. Can't even wrap my head around simple trigonometry without asking for help. But creating things? Writing them down? Mixing words in a pot and coming up with rainbows? Well, fuck it. Being inventive and creative in the sense that I'm weaving new, magical words with my own fingers on the keyboard? That's me. That's what I can do.
I just hope there's a job out there for that.
Unlikely!