ymusti: (Default)
11:12

I honestly don't want to sleep tonight. Sleep will transport me to tomorrow, and I don't want that to happen.

So things have been pretty rough lately, what with me having to face growing up and all-- college, homework, social impediments, mental hindrances, climate change. I don't know. Things have just been riding on me lately, or so I feel them to be, and I haven't been handling them all too well.

First, my sister's taking a leave from college. Well, that's not the problem, but the problem here is that my parents are pretty darn diddley upset about that, for pretty understandable reasons. But she did leave for pretty damn understandable reasons that dwarf, in my perspective, my parents' reasons (Bias? Probably.).

Second, I'm going to college on August. My parents want me to go to the college my older sister used to attend so that when/if she goes back, I can be there to help her out. (She stopped because she was depressed).

Third, well that didn't happen. I didn't pass the college's entrance test. I may however still sort of make it, supposing the university reconsiders.

Fourth, with the above three riding on me, my emotions, and my ability to handle them have been teetering on the edge. I am currently looking to a possible case of cyclothymia, what with my ego and depression and the swings to and fro.

Fifth and finally, my self-diagnosed cyclothymia and my envy has taken me into the world of isolation, what with my ego splashing around and getting everyone's beautiful clothes soiled. Yes, I am jealous of my friends for some unexplained reason that keeps changing for which I don't know why. And yes, I did get my ego up one time and sort of indirectly bashed them by posting journal snippets on my personal twitter account.

So shit.

I don't know anything anymore.

On the bright side, I passed the college I sort of really want to go to. But I'd probably have to find a scholarship or get a job for this so I can help my family pay off tuition because this university is hella expensive, and not quite the one my parents want. I respect that they don't entirely like it.

But I mean, things aren't winging in any direction wherein there is a foreseeable solution to anything.

It's fucking scary.

The results for the university my parents want me to go to came out just today, without any announcement. I was reviewing for one of my tests tomorrow, so hearing from my parents that the results came out and that I didn't pass, took me by surprise. I mean, I wasn't exactly entirely expecting to get in anyway, but I wasn't expecting it to be that soon and that suddenly.

I went into a shock almost instantly. I was dizzy. My mind was racing. And all I thought of was to appeal for me to get in. I lost my passion for the other school in a heartbeat. Because I knew that I disappointed my parents. I knew that I wouldn't be able to be there for my sister. I knew that nothing was going to wing in the way I subconsciously, despite all odds, thought it would.

I planned out the entire thing in my head. I fantasized it; romanticized it.

I mean, I would be living in a completely different city, studying something I did generally agree with. I wouldn't have my friends follow me after the mess I'm in with them. I wouldn't have to care about much else aside from my studying, my sister, and myself. I could've begun an entirely different life. I mean, man, the possibilities.

But it just didn't happen.

One thing went wrong, and everything else in the pciture just up and left.

I'm sort of disappointed in myself. I'm not sad that I wasn't able to make it to that school. I'm not sad that is shows that I was, for what it's worth, smart or anything. I'm sad that those possibly perfect opportunities for solution are gone. I'm sad because my parents are. I'm darn diddley scared now.

Darn-to-the Diddley scared.

I just don't know what's going to happen anymore.

When I go to school tomorrow, upset, people will think that I have no right to be upset, because I already made it to the second best university. But I can't explain to them this shit, because it's classified family information. Neither can I tell any of them this thing without either crying or being a mess just trying to explain it; as I did right now.

I don't want to sleep.

Because I don't want tomorrow to come. I don't want tomorrow and my problems to come.

11:38
ymusti: (Default)
I wore my second year class shirt to sleep today. It just so happened to be conveniently laid out on top of all of my other clothes on the first drawer I opened. Being too lazy to bend down and look for anything else, I just picked it up and used it.

When my dad saw me in it, he was telling me about how I should value the shirt and try not to wear it out since it was something to remember my second year by. Well, I couldn't defend laziness. I said nothing.

Truth be told, I really don't care about this shirt. It's a handsome shirt with a nice print, sure. I could even wear it going out if I wanted to be recognized as it had my last name printed at the back. Just kidding, strangers knowing my last name shouldn't be too much of something. Anyways, the thing about it is that I realized something with what my dad said (I'm really a douche, I tend to listen to my dad and internally twist his words, I might be a nice villain, or at least anti-hero if your prefer). I realized that I didn't tell him a single thing about my second year.

My second year of high school was the worst year, by far. It was the year I made real friends (I suppose they are real; they haven't let me down, yet), and, boy, were they the coolest bunch of people I've ever met, and that's the beginning of my downhill descent. I made real friends, became a weirdo, technically got bullied (I suppose you can call it that, but I sort of like to believe, in the other party's defense, that it was a high school thing-- I mean, we were different, so of course they had to make fun of us; if you can't tell, I'm trying my best at the moment to think like the average high school student) , developed social anxiety, and well, just closed myself off from the world. If that doesn't sound like a fun social experiment (I'll call it that to make everything sound good), I don't know what does. 

It was emotionally scarring, definitely, but I suppose it's the best thing a bunch of people can experience together. And, if you have yet to notice, I'M ALIVE! Socially dead, yes, but physically alive. And I suppose that should be a good enough reason to not want to remember my second year, dad.

But it doesn't mean that it was all bad. For one, I got in contact with my inner writer who was wishing to be released from the depths of the icky, squishy stuff inside me (Dad, this may also be the reason why I'm getting too lazy to study, you might as well understand this as well). I developed my creativity and I started self-teaching the craft. I, also, as I said before, got to meet a bunch of cool people-- my immediate circle of friends and the other guys in my outer circle, who I could have big talk with as I would like. And, I should be truly grateful for this last thing, I found who I was. I sort of scratched the top of the riddle of who I am and what this world is. At least I think I did. 

The misanthropic me, my inner guard, would beg to differ. Second year was by almost all means horrible. As much as it pushed me inside the walls of who I am in which I found, understood and love myself, it still pushed me in. It still pushed me in.

And it's because of this people-hating side of me that I don't hold things dear. I don't feel much for things. I do not attach memories to things, because if I did I would just be full of hate. That's why I don't care about this shirt, because if I did, I would hate it. It's just a thing to me; it doesn't quite play a significant role in my history. 

I wonder if I should show this post to my dad. He might want to understand me.

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Skye

April 2015

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