Brain Drain (1989)
I fucking hate this place. Especially in September.
Ichigo, I need your fall timetable so I can rewrite the schedule at the Exchange.
[Private]
September. It still sparks remembered hope every time I think about it. I still have that lingering undertone of awe when I say it. I still think its the most thrilling word to whisper.
Once upon a time, September was the highlight of my year. I always bitched and moaned about it, about how it called the end to 'summer freedom' just like everyone did. But really, it was always the light at the end of the tunnel after two months of hell. Going back to school meant hours of freedom, hours away from home without the fear of leaving my brothers to fend for themselves.
The first day of school was always a rush of relief. Finally, I could go get into enough trouble to keep Yashamaru completely focused on me without leaving him alone with Kankurou or Gaara.
Its strange really, like most things are to me now. Retrospective skews all perspective, minimizing emotional blinders so the full situation can come into focus. I don't think they ever realized just what I was doing back then, maybe they just thought I was crazy. I prefer it that way. They don't need to know just how much our only other living relative hated us. Especially Gaara.
I can't wrap my head around the fact that this is my seventh September here. This is the seventh time I'll stand by and watch everyone around me go back to class, go back to working towards something bigger and better than this.
This is the seventh anniversary of the day that's grown into the template for every single day of the rest of my life.
The older I get, the more people get that look in their eye. That look of knowledge, of realisation, that I'm never going to ammount to anything better than this.
For all my 'A's in high school, all my academic awards, all my scholarship offers, I'm still going to be the failure among my peers.
September had been freedom, had been hope to me, maybe that's why it leaves an extra bitter aftertaste in my mouth now. Its an inescapable landmark of my decision to fail at this game.
A game. Surprise, surprise, Neji's words come back to haunt me.
Maybe that's why Neji considers me to be a game. On some level, he's aware that I'm chained to this place while he's going to escape it. As such, I become a liability to his survival instincts. He's better than this, ergo, better than me.
Why do I keep wasting my time?
Happy twenty-fourth Temari. There's a bottle of tequila waiting to drown you and a pack of cigarettes hidden under your pillow to help you towards the finish line, even though you're running the race from a tredmil.
Ichigo, I need your fall timetable so I can rewrite the schedule at the Exchange.
[Private]
September. It still sparks remembered hope every time I think about it. I still have that lingering undertone of awe when I say it. I still think its the most thrilling word to whisper.
Once upon a time, September was the highlight of my year. I always bitched and moaned about it, about how it called the end to 'summer freedom' just like everyone did. But really, it was always the light at the end of the tunnel after two months of hell. Going back to school meant hours of freedom, hours away from home without the fear of leaving my brothers to fend for themselves.
The first day of school was always a rush of relief. Finally, I could go get into enough trouble to keep Yashamaru completely focused on me without leaving him alone with Kankurou or Gaara.
Its strange really, like most things are to me now. Retrospective skews all perspective, minimizing emotional blinders so the full situation can come into focus. I don't think they ever realized just what I was doing back then, maybe they just thought I was crazy. I prefer it that way. They don't need to know just how much our only other living relative hated us. Especially Gaara.
I can't wrap my head around the fact that this is my seventh September here. This is the seventh time I'll stand by and watch everyone around me go back to class, go back to working towards something bigger and better than this.
This is the seventh anniversary of the day that's grown into the template for every single day of the rest of my life.
The older I get, the more people get that look in their eye. That look of knowledge, of realisation, that I'm never going to ammount to anything better than this.
For all my 'A's in high school, all my academic awards, all my scholarship offers, I'm still going to be the failure among my peers.
September had been freedom, had been hope to me, maybe that's why it leaves an extra bitter aftertaste in my mouth now. Its an inescapable landmark of my decision to fail at this game.
A game. Surprise, surprise, Neji's words come back to haunt me.
Maybe that's why Neji considers me to be a game. On some level, he's aware that I'm chained to this place while he's going to escape it. As such, I become a liability to his survival instincts. He's better than this, ergo, better than me.
Why do I keep wasting my time?
Happy twenty-fourth Temari. There's a bottle of tequila waiting to drown you and a pack of cigarettes hidden under your pillow to help you towards the finish line, even though you're running the race from a tredmil.