(no subject)
So when I was 14 I was pretty stupid. I did a lot of stupid things.
I was thrown into a new world where being different wasn't so cool, my dad was becoming more and more physical, and no matter how hard I tried I always ended up alone in whatever I was doing.
I lived in Iowa for about 5 years, one of the longest times I've ever been in one place. I went to school from 6th grade to 10th grade with the same kids. However, I was never invited to any parties really. There are maybe 4 I can think of. I mean I had a few, and once there was Pucker (haha) but no incredible 80's movies would be made documenting my years at Assumption High School. That place however, was monumental in growing up. You know those snotty kids you see on tv? Yep, those are the ones that I dealt with everyday. I'm sure they didn't mean to be jack asses to me all the time. I'm sure, but they were. I wasn't cool. I didn't put out. I didn't shop at Abercombie or wear Champion socks up to my knees. I didn't know these kids for years and years and go to kindergarten with them. I didn't just go with the flow on everything.
I remember an incident in the cafeteria once. All the girls ate at the same table. It was always so packed, it was stupid. So, instead of squeezing in one day, I sat at an empty table. The girls in my grade didn't talk to me for a few days. Seriously.
I moved twice when I was in Iowa, once TO move there and once b/c our house was fucked up. The second time I moved I met a girl who said she lived by me at a sports camp over the summer. She asked me what my address was and I didn't know. (thats what happens when you move 11 times... I still come up with zip codes from MO or IA sometimes. However, because I didn't know my address, she made fun of me the entire time I was at camp. So I didn't make a friend with her.
There are a lot of stories like that. But the one that tops the cake is the one where I almost got myself raped and shot. Yep.
But there are good stories too. I used to draw a lot more than I do now. I draw really detailed things in a small scale with hidden meanings and messages. Some popular guy asked me once to do his name, and I did. I come to find out later that he got it tattooed on himself. I never got to see it, but how cool. Right?
I sound real mopey about these years of my life, which I should be in a way. I mean I have a lot of animosity towards that school. That was the school that didn't notice when I came to school with black eyes and busted lips and broken glasses. I was a semi-outcast there. I didn't trust anyone. I was usually reading or throwing myself in as many after-school activities I could. One, I loved all those things, and two it allowed less time at home. There were a few people who came into my life there that were pretty good. One was a boy (not the one who wanted to rape me, hahah) but in the end I freaked him out due to my differences and how complicated I am. He wants nothing to do with me to this day (I sent him a fb request recently aka today, so lets see...). I found out from a friend he met someone, they had a little girl, and then she left him. I heard it was really hard on him, and I feel horrible he had to go through that. There was also a girl, that nobody in our school liked b/c she was poor, and not super pretty. She invited me to her birthday party, and it turned out I was the only one who showed up, though everyone said they would. Then the same happened to me. She ended up transferring pretty quickly b/c the bullying was too hard for her.
Then there was my favorite teacher, the religion teacher. She was so worldly and intelligent, maybe one of the most intelligent people I have ever met. She always helped me if I needed it and I helped her after class on days I didn't want to go anywhere else. She told me once that she could tell I was different than all the other kids, and I should embrace it instead of feeling bad about it. I always seemed to surprise her with my take on things. It always was different than everyone else, that was true. She taught history along with the bible and really opened my eyes to the silly way people twist words to make what they want to hear. For example, that story about "turning the other cheek"? Well back then you wiped your ass with your hands and you usually used your right hand. So, if you were to slap someone, you would use your LEFT hand, because using your right hand for anything else (because it touches your butt) would be unacceptable and you would be severely looked down upon. If someone was to turn the other cheek when they got slapped, that meant that the slapper would have had to use his "butt hand", therefore he would be more disgraced. Same with the "if someone asks for your outer robe, give them your inner robe as well". It was worse to be SEEN with a naked person then to BE the naked person. So all that BULLSHIT about "turn the other cheek" is that. Bullshit.
I realized then that people are not all they are cracked to be.
When I told people I was moving, it made things even worse. Instead of making fun of me or whatever, they just simply ignored me. Everyone. I guess I wasn't even worth it to be a jerk to anymore? I actually hung out with my choir teacher more than most students that year. I was so good that last semester he said I should try out for Young Americans because he knew I was moving to Mi. Not that my dad would have ever let me. But I felt really good after that. That last year I was also on snare line, and I rocked that shit out too. I named a cadence and everything. I threw myself into jazz choir, band and the spring musical. I threw myself into all the music I could find. I even volunteered for church choir. I know right?
I don't even remember leaving that place, you know, my last day of school.... all I know is I became an island starting then. Well maybe not STARTING then. I was always that little kid that you could give a broken eraser and a cup to (any garbage) and I would sit and imagine and play for hours by myself. But hereI realized I was the only one I could depend on most the time.
What a cry-baby story.
I was thrown into a new world where being different wasn't so cool, my dad was becoming more and more physical, and no matter how hard I tried I always ended up alone in whatever I was doing.
I lived in Iowa for about 5 years, one of the longest times I've ever been in one place. I went to school from 6th grade to 10th grade with the same kids. However, I was never invited to any parties really. There are maybe 4 I can think of. I mean I had a few, and once there was Pucker (haha) but no incredible 80's movies would be made documenting my years at Assumption High School. That place however, was monumental in growing up. You know those snotty kids you see on tv? Yep, those are the ones that I dealt with everyday. I'm sure they didn't mean to be jack asses to me all the time. I'm sure, but they were. I wasn't cool. I didn't put out. I didn't shop at Abercombie or wear Champion socks up to my knees. I didn't know these kids for years and years and go to kindergarten with them. I didn't just go with the flow on everything.
I remember an incident in the cafeteria once. All the girls ate at the same table. It was always so packed, it was stupid. So, instead of squeezing in one day, I sat at an empty table. The girls in my grade didn't talk to me for a few days. Seriously.
I moved twice when I was in Iowa, once TO move there and once b/c our house was fucked up. The second time I moved I met a girl who said she lived by me at a sports camp over the summer. She asked me what my address was and I didn't know. (thats what happens when you move 11 times... I still come up with zip codes from MO or IA sometimes. However, because I didn't know my address, she made fun of me the entire time I was at camp. So I didn't make a friend with her.
There are a lot of stories like that. But the one that tops the cake is the one where I almost got myself raped and shot. Yep.
But there are good stories too. I used to draw a lot more than I do now. I draw really detailed things in a small scale with hidden meanings and messages. Some popular guy asked me once to do his name, and I did. I come to find out later that he got it tattooed on himself. I never got to see it, but how cool. Right?
I sound real mopey about these years of my life, which I should be in a way. I mean I have a lot of animosity towards that school. That was the school that didn't notice when I came to school with black eyes and busted lips and broken glasses. I was a semi-outcast there. I didn't trust anyone. I was usually reading or throwing myself in as many after-school activities I could. One, I loved all those things, and two it allowed less time at home. There were a few people who came into my life there that were pretty good. One was a boy (not the one who wanted to rape me, hahah) but in the end I freaked him out due to my differences and how complicated I am. He wants nothing to do with me to this day (I sent him a fb request recently aka today, so lets see...). I found out from a friend he met someone, they had a little girl, and then she left him. I heard it was really hard on him, and I feel horrible he had to go through that. There was also a girl, that nobody in our school liked b/c she was poor, and not super pretty. She invited me to her birthday party, and it turned out I was the only one who showed up, though everyone said they would. Then the same happened to me. She ended up transferring pretty quickly b/c the bullying was too hard for her.
Then there was my favorite teacher, the religion teacher. She was so worldly and intelligent, maybe one of the most intelligent people I have ever met. She always helped me if I needed it and I helped her after class on days I didn't want to go anywhere else. She told me once that she could tell I was different than all the other kids, and I should embrace it instead of feeling bad about it. I always seemed to surprise her with my take on things. It always was different than everyone else, that was true. She taught history along with the bible and really opened my eyes to the silly way people twist words to make what they want to hear. For example, that story about "turning the other cheek"? Well back then you wiped your ass with your hands and you usually used your right hand. So, if you were to slap someone, you would use your LEFT hand, because using your right hand for anything else (because it touches your butt) would be unacceptable and you would be severely looked down upon. If someone was to turn the other cheek when they got slapped, that meant that the slapper would have had to use his "butt hand", therefore he would be more disgraced. Same with the "if someone asks for your outer robe, give them your inner robe as well". It was worse to be SEEN with a naked person then to BE the naked person. So all that BULLSHIT about "turn the other cheek" is that. Bullshit.
I realized then that people are not all they are cracked to be.
When I told people I was moving, it made things even worse. Instead of making fun of me or whatever, they just simply ignored me. Everyone. I guess I wasn't even worth it to be a jerk to anymore? I actually hung out with my choir teacher more than most students that year. I was so good that last semester he said I should try out for Young Americans because he knew I was moving to Mi. Not that my dad would have ever let me. But I felt really good after that. That last year I was also on snare line, and I rocked that shit out too. I named a cadence and everything. I threw myself into jazz choir, band and the spring musical. I threw myself into all the music I could find. I even volunteered for church choir. I know right?
I don't even remember leaving that place, you know, my last day of school.... all I know is I became an island starting then. Well maybe not STARTING then. I was always that little kid that you could give a broken eraser and a cup to (any garbage) and I would sit and imagine and play for hours by myself. But hereI realized I was the only one I could depend on most the time.
What a cry-baby story.