I grew up with this ideology, this belief system on how showing emotion was weak. I think thats cause my mom and dad are super competitive and they instilled that in me. Wanting to be the best striving to always be better. Being told your not good enough in more or less an attempt to inspire and push a child towards reaching whatever goal. I have always been told that I am smart. And if I ever actually tried and applied myself I can be “better” I guess. And to a point I guess I am smart. I can some how put out little to zero effort and some how I pass classes people stay up till 3 in the morning working hard on. And then there is a part of me which is a complete and total loser. He’s a dork and a nerd and its awesome. But at the same time I’m a very walled off person.I only every talk to and speak to people I feel are real. And every one else is a prop in the onstage show going on known as my life. We all wear masks I mean I think thats an obvious thing. How frightening the thought of seeing who you truly are. This is a truly scary thing allowing yourself to be seen. I think a lot. A lot more then I think regular people do. I think its because of my add. See I’ve even thought about why do I think so much. Mostly I keep my thoughts and my opinions to myself. Not about regular things I love talking about movies and video games and comics all of that discussing it hell even thinking about all of it is to me really interesting. But about real stuff. Its not that I shut off or shut down. Its that I don’t think you can handle my real opinion. So I have friends who know when I have gotten real with them when I have actually shared a deep thought of mine. You were probably the only person that every opinion or real question you asked of me I gave you a real answer. You have probably seen the most of my evil demented fuck up twisted wonderland know as my mind. I view all things for what they truly are. I analyze everything I think of every possible outcome. The one I want the one Ill hate and everything in between. Sometimes life throughs me a surprise and says hey dummy you didn’t think about this did you? And to me this is it. I think you wanted to jump right back in dive in head first and it would just snap back together like it was gone like nothing happened. That you could force a feeling with out really trying just waking up one day and it all feel amazing again and you were right back up on cloud 9. But thats just it. I wasn’t. Don’t get me wrong that would never happen and would never work as a proper way to fix things. But the truth is the honest truth is. I think maybe for the first time in a long time I was really honestly hurt. And it sucked cause this time it mattered. It wasn’t someone who hurt my ego. It was someone who I truly loved that hurt me. That didn’t make me feel good. It broke me. But I don’t say anything I never do. Cause you have to always be strong. No matter how broken you are inside. I’m sorry but I tried. I really did. some people get the short end of the skin and some well we don’t even get a stick just beat down with it then asked why is this stick so small? Not a good guy but I never claimed to be. But I know that I was good to you and I tried. Does that even matter.
Zuko being an awkward teenager.
My favorite line of all time.
SHELDON IS FREAKIN ADORABLE AND I WANT TO ADOPT HIM.
At Stanford there was this Professor who was a total bitch and she taught British Literature, which was cool. Except she taught only her opinions of the books and it didn’t help me as a writer. I went to school to learn new things to improve my craft, not have someone else’s opinions carved onto my forehead.
So anyway, for our final project, she asked us to write a ten page paper on why the color symbolism in Othello was so significant. I did some research and it turned out that she did her entire graduate thesis on this very subject. I was mad. This wasn’t teaching, this was boosting her ego. SO I wrote a ten page essay on why color symbolism in Othello wasn’t significant, satirizing it to the point of no return, saying that her opinion was an opinion and shouldn’t be taken seriously.
SHe failed me, needless to say. So in retaliation, I responded by baking a batch of brownies laced with weed and laxatives and delivered them myself to the professor hours before her big graduation speech. I told her that it was a peace offering, my way of apologizing and asking if I could do anything to fix my grade.
She refused to fix my grade.
In the end, she shit herself on stage.
I didn’t regret it.
As the days gone by I see more trouble coming my way. I got some more disturbing news that can break anyone down. But I’m already broken so what now.