That's the way this wheel keeps working out.
I just took a long bath in dirty water and it allowed me to think about a lot of stuff. I've got a lot on my mind right now. That's all I can think about. It's like a collective hunk of to-do lists and goals and addresses and numbers of new friends and last names just stuck there, sitting dormant. I had the entire day to finish work but I didn't because i really didn't want to.
But then there's this precious time outside of that where I can contemplate life and the world and religion and politics and if it really makes any sense and why we were created and all this really deep stuff that just leaves me with more questions than i started with.
1)School-this is one of the more stressful topics. Actually, this is the most stressful. My entire summer depends on my passing eighth grade math. I keep repeating this mantra in my head of "c'mon, fooocus. FOCUS" but I just lose my track of thought in something completely unrelated like whether or not I really should even be here and what significance this is going to have on my life and the importance of my attendance of school and how much I want to be able to have people my own age to share these thoughts with, while sipping expensive coffees in Barnes &Noble and doing work that I enjoy doing and can keep my mind on.
This brings me to topic
2)Friends-I'm surrounded by these people that either boast their non-conformist ways or blantly point out that they're better than me because they spend 130 dollars on jeans I could get at the salvation army for 5. I'm in the mood for an eclectic group of people, those who don't go too gently, but who don't feel the need to constantly prove their social status.
Which brings me to topic
3)"The real world"- Don't get me wrong, my repeating the eighth grade would be a total damper on my party and ruin my entire summer, but the point is this:What is this all going to do for me once I get the real world? Can I just be happy with being unimpressive? Why do I constantly need to push myself to get the best if that's not what I want?
I mean, think about it. All those mass-murderers and such all had guidance counselors saying:"Focus! Keep your eye on the prize!" and look where they got. Is my guidance couselor's determination really going to determine my standing in life?
I don't know, guys. I really just don't know. I think I won't be content until I'm out of this situation.
Which will be if I get out of middle school.
Which will be if I pass.
...and then the wheel starts to turn again.
So on another note, I was thinking about in third grade when I had a crush on this boy, Zach. He was really cute, and a lot of girls liked him, and I just happened to be one. Well, I figured I'd get the "edge" on the competition. So I wrote Zach a letter, phone number included, telling him that if he was interested in me to call me. I sent it to him the next day in the mail, and I waited everyday for a week to hear something. anything.
Then on Sunday, I arrived home from a hospital visit to my grandmother, and there's a message on my machine.
It was Zach, in a condescending voice, stating matter-of-factly that he was not interested in me, and that he'd see me tommorrow.
I don't know why I remember that, but I do.
I don't even think I cried.
And then I went out with Sal, and I cried a bit for him, but it wasn't really anything to write home about.
And then, I haven't even been remotely CLOSE to Evan, and when we did whatever it is we did that officiated the relationship's non-existance, I bawled for like, 45 minutes.
Wtf, mate. Wtf indeed.
I'm making a shirt.
Or trying to.
I'll let you know how that turns out and how many fingers remain intact after the sewing has commenced.
Love, Abby.
But then there's this precious time outside of that where I can contemplate life and the world and religion and politics and if it really makes any sense and why we were created and all this really deep stuff that just leaves me with more questions than i started with.
1)School-this is one of the more stressful topics. Actually, this is the most stressful. My entire summer depends on my passing eighth grade math. I keep repeating this mantra in my head of "c'mon, fooocus. FOCUS" but I just lose my track of thought in something completely unrelated like whether or not I really should even be here and what significance this is going to have on my life and the importance of my attendance of school and how much I want to be able to have people my own age to share these thoughts with, while sipping expensive coffees in Barnes &Noble and doing work that I enjoy doing and can keep my mind on.
This brings me to topic
2)Friends-I'm surrounded by these people that either boast their non-conformist ways or blantly point out that they're better than me because they spend 130 dollars on jeans I could get at the salvation army for 5. I'm in the mood for an eclectic group of people, those who don't go too gently, but who don't feel the need to constantly prove their social status.
Which brings me to topic
3)"The real world"- Don't get me wrong, my repeating the eighth grade would be a total damper on my party and ruin my entire summer, but the point is this:What is this all going to do for me once I get the real world? Can I just be happy with being unimpressive? Why do I constantly need to push myself to get the best if that's not what I want?
I mean, think about it. All those mass-murderers and such all had guidance counselors saying:"Focus! Keep your eye on the prize!" and look where they got. Is my guidance couselor's determination really going to determine my standing in life?
I don't know, guys. I really just don't know. I think I won't be content until I'm out of this situation.
Which will be if I get out of middle school.
Which will be if I pass.
...and then the wheel starts to turn again.
So on another note, I was thinking about in third grade when I had a crush on this boy, Zach. He was really cute, and a lot of girls liked him, and I just happened to be one. Well, I figured I'd get the "edge" on the competition. So I wrote Zach a letter, phone number included, telling him that if he was interested in me to call me. I sent it to him the next day in the mail, and I waited everyday for a week to hear something. anything.
Then on Sunday, I arrived home from a hospital visit to my grandmother, and there's a message on my machine.
It was Zach, in a condescending voice, stating matter-of-factly that he was not interested in me, and that he'd see me tommorrow.
I don't know why I remember that, but I do.
I don't even think I cried.
And then I went out with Sal, and I cried a bit for him, but it wasn't really anything to write home about.
And then, I haven't even been remotely CLOSE to Evan, and when we did whatever it is we did that officiated the relationship's non-existance, I bawled for like, 45 minutes.
Wtf, mate. Wtf indeed.
I'm making a shirt.
Or trying to.
I'll let you know how that turns out and how many fingers remain intact after the sewing has commenced.
Love, Abby.