School, writing and learning stuff about people.
I've got about 30-35 days left of this school year. I think I like the sound of that, because I suppose it means I don't have many projects or tests left to do. I've had some really good experiences this semester in terms of getting to know myself and changing, but I've also had a bunch of bad experiences as well. Somehow, my life this semester has been largely focused on school, even though I've lately decided to blow school off. It's not so much that I've been worrying about school or concentrating on it too deeply, but more that many of my pitfalls and successes are traced rather directly back to school. Half of my teachers are very nice, while the other half are my worst enemies, to put it simply.
I've learned that I don't really care about many people, especially authority. I don't really have respect for many adults because they consistently act as though they are entitled to some form of hero-worship just because of their age. I think the whole division between age groups is a result of the level of entitlement people feel as they age. The older people are, the more bitter they become. There are exceptions to this rule, just as there are to any other rule. However, I've yet to find anyone who doesn't follow this pattern. When I do, I'm sure I'll let you know. I vow to not be that way, though. And I also promise to myself and to everyone else that I will not forget what it's like to be a teenager. Life sucks, but it sucks for everyone. It's usually not fair. But adults will be quick to chastise you for complaining. When they complain, though, it's as if they're allowed because their lives actually do suck.
Most teenagers are hormone-driven, illiterate, closed-minded baboons. Am I the exception? Can I really judge myself on that? I like to think my hormones don't get the better of me (except when I'm PMSing, but that's not exclusive to teenagers, and that's not really the kind of hormone I'm thinking of in this context.) I know I'm literate, because those who aren't make me cringe with horror at the state of society. I know I am open-minded, except when people are obviously wrong. What I've learned is that people like to be right when they're right, and they like for you to tell them they're right even when they're not. I guess that's me in some ways, but I believe that's everyone. No one strives to be wrong. Everyone would rather be right, but the healthiest possible thing to do is say what you feel and to hell with people who tell you it's wrong. Unless it's actually wrong. Then you're fucked. No one looks to be rejected, either. There are people who just don't give a hoot if they're popular or not, and I'm probably one of those, but at the same time no one likes rejection. There's indifference and then there's dislike.
I can't wait for summer and time to work on my novel. It's one of the few aspects of reality that get me excited. When I think about it, my stomach churns and I almost know that I'm about to blow chunks. But I don't, because it's a happy kind of churning. When I get that odd feeling in the pit of my stomach, I know that it's something good; something that makes me happy. I get the same feeling when I'm being nostalgic. I know I've probably mentioned this in a past entry. It sounds familiar, but that doesn't matter. In any case, my book is only a chapter in length at this point, but I know that I will get a very big crack at it during this coming summer. I've got two completely free and inspirational months to work on it, and I know that I will. I'm very excited to do so. Recently, I've grown obsessed with it and I keep looking for inspiration online. Whenever I sit down to work on it, I suddenly realise I have a project to do or a test the next day, and my writing gets pushed to the back of my head. It's sad but it's very true. That doesn't matter. I'll do it, I know. It's not over till it's over!
That's all I have to say for now, I suppose. This has been fun and rather refreshing. Good luck, cruel world.
I've learned that I don't really care about many people, especially authority. I don't really have respect for many adults because they consistently act as though they are entitled to some form of hero-worship just because of their age. I think the whole division between age groups is a result of the level of entitlement people feel as they age. The older people are, the more bitter they become. There are exceptions to this rule, just as there are to any other rule. However, I've yet to find anyone who doesn't follow this pattern. When I do, I'm sure I'll let you know. I vow to not be that way, though. And I also promise to myself and to everyone else that I will not forget what it's like to be a teenager. Life sucks, but it sucks for everyone. It's usually not fair. But adults will be quick to chastise you for complaining. When they complain, though, it's as if they're allowed because their lives actually do suck.
Most teenagers are hormone-driven, illiterate, closed-minded baboons. Am I the exception? Can I really judge myself on that? I like to think my hormones don't get the better of me (except when I'm PMSing, but that's not exclusive to teenagers, and that's not really the kind of hormone I'm thinking of in this context.) I know I'm literate, because those who aren't make me cringe with horror at the state of society. I know I am open-minded, except when people are obviously wrong. What I've learned is that people like to be right when they're right, and they like for you to tell them they're right even when they're not. I guess that's me in some ways, but I believe that's everyone. No one strives to be wrong. Everyone would rather be right, but the healthiest possible thing to do is say what you feel and to hell with people who tell you it's wrong. Unless it's actually wrong. Then you're fucked. No one looks to be rejected, either. There are people who just don't give a hoot if they're popular or not, and I'm probably one of those, but at the same time no one likes rejection. There's indifference and then there's dislike.
I can't wait for summer and time to work on my novel. It's one of the few aspects of reality that get me excited. When I think about it, my stomach churns and I almost know that I'm about to blow chunks. But I don't, because it's a happy kind of churning. When I get that odd feeling in the pit of my stomach, I know that it's something good; something that makes me happy. I get the same feeling when I'm being nostalgic. I know I've probably mentioned this in a past entry. It sounds familiar, but that doesn't matter. In any case, my book is only a chapter in length at this point, but I know that I will get a very big crack at it during this coming summer. I've got two completely free and inspirational months to work on it, and I know that I will. I'm very excited to do so. Recently, I've grown obsessed with it and I keep looking for inspiration online. Whenever I sit down to work on it, I suddenly realise I have a project to do or a test the next day, and my writing gets pushed to the back of my head. It's sad but it's very true. That doesn't matter. I'll do it, I know. It's not over till it's over!
That's all I have to say for now, I suppose. This has been fun and rather refreshing. Good luck, cruel world.