I'm happy I visited this blog after ages to see words of support and love from people I barely know. It's encouraging to know that there are people in this world who care enough to help some whiny teenager who posts depressing blog posts. And it's funny how someone you've never even met, can honestly save your life with their own story or wisdom, or even by telling you to live a little bit and not to let life pass you by. I admire people like this, who care enough to help someone they've never met. And some day when I'm done with high school I want to help the people who are dealing with the same things I am now, because no one knows how painful it is unless you've actually experienced it.
I am looking forward to a Friday night of epic non stop parties in my bustling city that never sleeps hometown. Hah. Yeah right. It's just going to be my typical Friday night. Home alone, with my pals Ben and Jerry and the never ending drama of the poisonously addicting TV show Degrassi. My best friend is working, my other best friend will be with her perfect for her boyfriend. And I barely even talk to the third best friend. Can you consider someone a best friend if you see them in person about once a week? I'm not sure but for some reason I think that goes against the grain of the best friend handbook.
School sucked today. I failed my AP Calc test, and yet again completely defied the stereotype that all Indians are smart. Hah, that's a joke. I struggle to get A's in high school, I wonder how hard pre med is going to kick my ass in college. Yeah, I totally look forward to that cut throat competition and never ending studying. I hate public speaking. Teachers who make us do that are seriously out to get people like me. I try to breathe and act calm and collected when I'm up there in front of the class, but I end up just hating the sound of my voice and what comes out of my mouth, no matter what I say. It sounds stupid and different than what I nervously rehearsed in my head a million times before, and I end up running back to my desk wanting to be in anyone's skin but mine. Public speaking is terrible, cruel and unusual punishment. I would rather walk on a board of nails for a mile than ever ever ever speak in front of my class.
What is wrong with the music of this day and age? There is a serious problem when Far East Movement writes a song about "getting slizzard". It's great that they can so tastefully describe their experiences of getting totally and disgustingly inebriated, but where did those beautiful lyrics go that the Beatles wrote. I mean even when they were talking about walruses, or shoe shine, or toe jam it was epic. I want Here Comes the Sun lyrics. I want You've really Got a Hold on Me. I want songs where people talk about being hopelessly in love, and I want the music that makes me believe in something. Going to the club to dance, dance, dance, dance; and wearing all my favorite brands brands brands brands, doesn't inspire or move me, it just makes me want to change the station. Don't get me wrong, I love music but some of this stuff is just absolutely appalling.
There are approximately 319028312389827308723 things about myself that I've never ever ever told anyone before, and every day it eats away at me.
I want to walk down the hallways of my high school screaming at the top of my lungs and throw things at everyone; the teachers, the students, the principal. I want someone for once to realize that smiles are fakes and laughs are forced and that pain is the only real thing, the only thing that makes me feel somewhat alive.
I've always complained about complainers. How awfully hypocritical of me, evidence of this: oh just the last 500 words I've posted on here.
I want to sleep, and drift away forever and never come out of that sleep until I'm done with high school. I want college so bad. I'm dying for a new start, a new city, and new people. If I have to spend one more day in this mundane life, boring town, and disgusting high school, I will scream..
Bring on the screaming...
Final Blog Requirements
2 years ago