I don't know.
This week is finals week at school. Oddly (or rather surely) enough, I haven't been able to get myself to get everything that should get done all wrapped up (or rather started). I went into the year feeling like I was doing alright, and by that I mean that I felt like I had at least minute drive to do my schoolwork and didn't feel like a complete failure. But as this semester wore on, my desire to do much of anything continued to dwindle.
This school year is half over. It is 2008, and I'm graduating finally this year. I really wish I'd had a different perspective throughout these past few years. HIgh school would have been something so so different. But in my reality, high school has turned into me trying to work the system. If anything, being like this has made me grow a huge appretiation for my intelligence. Because I know that I could never have had such bad habits all this time if I didn't have the smarts to figure out how to not let it fuck me over too badly.
I remember what I was like in the very beginning; nerdy, meek, brunette, quiet. Befriending people I didn't really like to be around just to feel like I had friends. Obsessing over boys who faintly had feelings for me, and ending up writing about it sadly in my journal. Changing my persona every month or so depending on my latest circle of friends. Still with that lingering catholic school regime drilled into my work habits and thought patterns. But slowly I denounced my creed, my way of life, and virtually everything that used to define me.
And here I am today. A slacker. An adolescent girl in California figuring out who she is. A second-semester high school senior who thinks that it really is all pointless in the end.
If you have a brain and give even two shits, you can graduate high school and go to college if you really want to and make something of yourself according to societal standards.
But what good is any of it?
Who gives a fuck how I do on finals? Who gives a fuck what college I go to? Who gives a fuck whether I'm picking up on habits that are worse for me than I would like to admit?
Who fucking gives a flying fuck?
I know that I for one stopped a while ago...
I don't really want to be like this... lackadaisical, languid, listless
whatever fancy word you want to call it.
But I'm beginning to see how self-defeating this all is. I have always valued creativity and productivity, but no one would ever guess that by looking at how I live my life. I want to change, and I guess that is the first step. I just have to start trying again. I know I can do better.. and maybe that is why it is so frusterating most of the time. That stupid thing called potential really gets to me. I know I have the potential, and it makes me sad that I always feel like I am not living up to it.
In any case, I'm kind of tired of talking about how lazy I am.
Last night, I retouched my roots and lightened the lengths of my hair. And the toner that I used afterwards turned my hair a sort of white/grey/platinum colour. It feels too intense. I feel like I just keep bleaching myself away. I don't know how much longer I can go with absolutely no pigment in my hair. Champagne Ice it was called, huh? more like Albino White.
In any case, I need to brighten myself up. I am not unhappy right now. Not by any means. I know I have everything that I need; a warm place to sleep at night, a tall dark and handsome who thinks a lot like I do, good friends, a family who cares about me, all material needs and wants.
So why then, do I still feel unsatisfied so often?
Why are any of us unsatisfied?
We should be grateful, but we're all so obsessed with what is wrong in our lives and in the world that we always forget to look around and see that what we already have should be enough.
This school year is half over. It is 2008, and I'm graduating finally this year. I really wish I'd had a different perspective throughout these past few years. HIgh school would have been something so so different. But in my reality, high school has turned into me trying to work the system. If anything, being like this has made me grow a huge appretiation for my intelligence. Because I know that I could never have had such bad habits all this time if I didn't have the smarts to figure out how to not let it fuck me over too badly.
I remember what I was like in the very beginning; nerdy, meek, brunette, quiet. Befriending people I didn't really like to be around just to feel like I had friends. Obsessing over boys who faintly had feelings for me, and ending up writing about it sadly in my journal. Changing my persona every month or so depending on my latest circle of friends. Still with that lingering catholic school regime drilled into my work habits and thought patterns. But slowly I denounced my creed, my way of life, and virtually everything that used to define me.
And here I am today. A slacker. An adolescent girl in California figuring out who she is. A second-semester high school senior who thinks that it really is all pointless in the end.
If you have a brain and give even two shits, you can graduate high school and go to college if you really want to and make something of yourself according to societal standards.
But what good is any of it?
Who gives a fuck how I do on finals? Who gives a fuck what college I go to? Who gives a fuck whether I'm picking up on habits that are worse for me than I would like to admit?
Who fucking gives a flying fuck?
I know that I for one stopped a while ago...
I don't really want to be like this... lackadaisical, languid, listless
whatever fancy word you want to call it.
But I'm beginning to see how self-defeating this all is. I have always valued creativity and productivity, but no one would ever guess that by looking at how I live my life. I want to change, and I guess that is the first step. I just have to start trying again. I know I can do better.. and maybe that is why it is so frusterating most of the time. That stupid thing called potential really gets to me. I know I have the potential, and it makes me sad that I always feel like I am not living up to it.
In any case, I'm kind of tired of talking about how lazy I am.
Last night, I retouched my roots and lightened the lengths of my hair. And the toner that I used afterwards turned my hair a sort of white/grey/platinum colour. It feels too intense. I feel like I just keep bleaching myself away. I don't know how much longer I can go with absolutely no pigment in my hair. Champagne Ice it was called, huh? more like Albino White.
In any case, I need to brighten myself up. I am not unhappy right now. Not by any means. I know I have everything that I need; a warm place to sleep at night, a tall dark and handsome who thinks a lot like I do, good friends, a family who cares about me, all material needs and wants.
So why then, do I still feel unsatisfied so often?
Why are any of us unsatisfied?
We should be grateful, but we're all so obsessed with what is wrong in our lives and in the world that we always forget to look around and see that what we already have should be enough.