I have a talent for cheering people up. I also have a talent for making sense. And no sense at all (when I want to).
I also hate the human race as a whole, can't talk to people well, and am not a people person.
How is someone so good with stringing together words and ideas on paper (and computer) so horrible at actually talking to people and making relations with people.
If anyone has ever read The Goose Girl by Shannon Hale, it's kind of like this: My mom, and a number of people around me, are like the Queen and Selia- People-speakers. And they easily glide through conversations, and if they wish, turn people against me. Not just me either, other people too, like Jenni. Rick is a people speaker, and has dispelled all Jenni's accusations against him (which were the truth) with his abilities as a smooth-talker.
And then there's me- Princess Anidori-Kiladra Talianna Isilee, just without the long name, the princess status, or the magical ability to talk to the wind and understand birds. Socially awkward, fighting against those with the ability of people-speaking, and never seemingly good enough for the people around her.
And we might as well throw in a bit of Cassandra from Greek legend.
I'm getting used to it though. All of this. It doesn't bother me as it once did.
I'm just wondering what kind of career I can have that is based around making people happy, telling the truth, and... not speaking to people? Or at least not idiot or annoying people?
Yeah. I think I'll stick with baking.
Ah, College Acceptance Letters
I got accepted into the Hotel Management program at GBC.
It wasn't the program I wanted. It was more of a back-up program, to make the 95$ worth it, I guess. An option, but does it really matter?
And if you're reading this, you're probably the... third person to know. You'd be the first, but for the fact that my mother is a complete snoop (and freaked out about it, till she realized that it wasn't the program we were hoping for). She has probably told my dad, so he's the second. So, yep, you're the third.
It's not that I don't have anyone at all to tell. It's kind of that way, but it's also that I just forget about it. It's not the most exciting thing. Not what I expected. And I've been getting almost nowhere with the Pastry Arts program, what with the math mix-up and now an English qualifier (I got 85% in English. I shouldn't need to take it. But I do. How does that work?). Even then, who knows?
It all seems quite hopeless. Even if I take the test, there's no guarantee. Still, I have to complete math either way.
Maybe I should tell someone quick, before everyone gets mad at me. Like Jenni. Chances are, if she finds out I haven't told her and it's been days, she'll just get terribly upset. I can't even remember when I got the letter. Who cares? Not I.
Anti-climatic, indeed.
It wasn't the program I wanted. It was more of a back-up program, to make the 95$ worth it, I guess. An option, but does it really matter?
And if you're reading this, you're probably the... third person to know. You'd be the first, but for the fact that my mother is a complete snoop (and freaked out about it, till she realized that it wasn't the program we were hoping for). She has probably told my dad, so he's the second. So, yep, you're the third.
It's not that I don't have anyone at all to tell. It's kind of that way, but it's also that I just forget about it. It's not the most exciting thing. Not what I expected. And I've been getting almost nowhere with the Pastry Arts program, what with the math mix-up and now an English qualifier (I got 85% in English. I shouldn't need to take it. But I do. How does that work?). Even then, who knows?
It all seems quite hopeless. Even if I take the test, there's no guarantee. Still, I have to complete math either way.
Maybe I should tell someone quick, before everyone gets mad at me. Like Jenni. Chances are, if she finds out I haven't told her and it's been days, she'll just get terribly upset. I can't even remember when I got the letter. Who cares? Not I.
Anti-climatic, indeed.
Party, Yay. (/sarcasm)
I'm not a party person. Had I been, maybe nothing would have happened. Maybe history would have been changed, and therefore the future would be too. But oh well, I don't like parties and I don't think I ever will. And I don't have much of a problem with that.
Except everyone keeps thinking that I do like parties. Another problem that arose. No one decided to listen when I said "I don't want to have a party. I don't want to have bunches of people at my birthday drinking and dancing and making me feel out of place. Can't we just hang out? Watch a movie or two?" (And by the way, I'm not a fan of watching movie after movie, but it's better than partying).
But that's all another story.
I've been invited to a St. Patrick's day party. I thought it was a good idea when I first agreed to it. My mistake here. And I thought "Hey, only a few people, and it's not even for sure."
Now there's a lot of people coming, most of which I don't know (I only talk to the person who invited me on a regular basis, everyone else I've said five words or less to). I'd much rather just stay home. I won't even be there till late because I have riding tonight, and he's expressed his opinion of me smelling like a horse so I need to take a shower beforehand. And I'm helping pay for pizza that I might not even be there for, since they might order it long before I get there (Though I should only be an hour and a half late, maybe two hours).
Oh well. A sacrifice for having not to stay for that long. It runs till 11, though, so that's a good three to three and a half hours I have to be social. Sigh. Well, it might be fun... And if it's not, I'm going to make sure I say no next time, XD.
/rant
Except everyone keeps thinking that I do like parties. Another problem that arose. No one decided to listen when I said "I don't want to have a party. I don't want to have bunches of people at my birthday drinking and dancing and making me feel out of place. Can't we just hang out? Watch a movie or two?" (And by the way, I'm not a fan of watching movie after movie, but it's better than partying).
But that's all another story.
I've been invited to a St. Patrick's day party. I thought it was a good idea when I first agreed to it. My mistake here. And I thought "Hey, only a few people, and it's not even for sure."
Now there's a lot of people coming, most of which I don't know (I only talk to the person who invited me on a regular basis, everyone else I've said five words or less to). I'd much rather just stay home. I won't even be there till late because I have riding tonight, and he's expressed his opinion of me smelling like a horse so I need to take a shower beforehand. And I'm helping pay for pizza that I might not even be there for, since they might order it long before I get there (Though I should only be an hour and a half late, maybe two hours).
Oh well. A sacrifice for having not to stay for that long. It runs till 11, though, so that's a good three to three and a half hours I have to be social. Sigh. Well, it might be fun... And if it's not, I'm going to make sure I say no next time, XD.
/rant
The Hermit Lifestyle
It bugs my mom to no end that I am once again borderline social-outcast. It bugs her more that I seem to be enjoying it.
There's the difference between my mom and dad. But if you compare them, you'd find similarities that just happen to come out in different situations. Right now though, my dad is letting me be a "hermit" and do my own thing, even if it means not going out places, not being social. He's scared I'm going to become depressed or suicidal, but he's letting me do whatever I want.
My mom, on the other hand, wants to butt in and criticize me, as if it will encourage me to go out there and find more friends who will probably betray me too.
I wonder how many suicide watches I've been on in the past month and a half. At least four. I might still be on a couple.
Funny thing is, if I should have been on such a list, it should have been before the shit hit the fan. That's when life was really bad. Somewhere between Christmas and end of the semester. I think that was the worst time. Before it all snapped, not when.
There's the difference between my mom and dad. But if you compare them, you'd find similarities that just happen to come out in different situations. Right now though, my dad is letting me be a "hermit" and do my own thing, even if it means not going out places, not being social. He's scared I'm going to become depressed or suicidal, but he's letting me do whatever I want.
My mom, on the other hand, wants to butt in and criticize me, as if it will encourage me to go out there and find more friends who will probably betray me too.
I wonder how many suicide watches I've been on in the past month and a half. At least four. I might still be on a couple.
Funny thing is, if I should have been on such a list, it should have been before the shit hit the fan. That's when life was really bad. Somewhere between Christmas and end of the semester. I think that was the worst time. Before it all snapped, not when.
The Fragments Still In The Wind
I don't think it's anger or restlessness that has brought me here.
I'm just tired. Tired of trying to please everyone, and disappointing. And being disappointed.
But it's a lot better than it was. Before I tore as much apart as I possibly could. Back when I was trying helplessly to please so many more people. Back when I was failing even when I put everything before myself, and getting no acknowledgment the rare times I did succeed. And then being looked over and past as I struggled to gain my footing on ice.
It's a lot better now, but I still have that feeling. Is it the hint of it that gets me antsy? The memory of what was, and what could happen? The possibility of the past not staying the past?
I don't want to lose my footing again. I don't want to end up on ice.
I'm just tired. Tired of trying to please everyone, and disappointing. And being disappointed.
But it's a lot better than it was. Before I tore as much apart as I possibly could. Back when I was trying helplessly to please so many more people. Back when I was failing even when I put everything before myself, and getting no acknowledgment the rare times I did succeed. And then being looked over and past as I struggled to gain my footing on ice.
It's a lot better now, but I still have that feeling. Is it the hint of it that gets me antsy? The memory of what was, and what could happen? The possibility of the past not staying the past?
I don't want to lose my footing again. I don't want to end up on ice.
The Truth Is... We Don't Know It
It amuses me, really, how everyone thinks they know what happened. Or, at least, that's how they go around acting.
They tell me what I did, which I may or may not have done, and they tell me that it was either wrong or right, when they don't even know my reasons (or lack of?) behind having done it (or, not having done it, in the other case). Even if they listened to me list the reasons why behind all my actions, they'd still get it wrong. It's the human way.
And then there are those who have no business in this, or have too much business, and we want it to stay that way, so we tell them the barest amount- the facts we pull and merge into a few simple words so they get the jist. Enough so they can fill in the blanks, and whatever they come up with is sufficient, unless they really aren't getting it, then we nudge them back on the path we want them on.
Truth is, no one, and I repeat for anyone in disbelief, no one, knows what really happened. Not even those without-a-doubt involved 100%. They don't know why I did it, I don't know why they did it. We don't know why each other suddenly shot the gun and broke everything, and why we're both letting it rot on the ground. We don't know why we each fed the flame, or how or where we got the stuff to do it.
Heck, I think it's pretty safe to say that we ourselves don't 100% know why we did what we did.
But even knowing this myself, I'm not any closer to welcoming them back with open arms. And I doubt they've even come to this conclusion. If they have, they're not doing anything about it either- and even if they were to, it's not happening.
I might not know why the fight happened, I might not know the whole story, but I'm sick of the story already. I paid the down-payment for my freedom, I'm not about to risk it all. I'm not much of a gambler anyways- I rock at Cheat because of the few gambles I play.
I don't think I need to know the rest of the story behind the ending to see that it was one story that doesn't need a sequel. Not a sequel with me in it.
They tell me what I did, which I may or may not have done, and they tell me that it was either wrong or right, when they don't even know my reasons (or lack of?) behind having done it (or, not having done it, in the other case). Even if they listened to me list the reasons why behind all my actions, they'd still get it wrong. It's the human way.
And then there are those who have no business in this, or have too much business, and we want it to stay that way, so we tell them the barest amount- the facts we pull and merge into a few simple words so they get the jist. Enough so they can fill in the blanks, and whatever they come up with is sufficient, unless they really aren't getting it, then we nudge them back on the path we want them on.
Truth is, no one, and I repeat for anyone in disbelief, no one, knows what really happened. Not even those without-a-doubt involved 100%. They don't know why I did it, I don't know why they did it. We don't know why each other suddenly shot the gun and broke everything, and why we're both letting it rot on the ground. We don't know why we each fed the flame, or how or where we got the stuff to do it.
Heck, I think it's pretty safe to say that we ourselves don't 100% know why we did what we did.
But even knowing this myself, I'm not any closer to welcoming them back with open arms. And I doubt they've even come to this conclusion. If they have, they're not doing anything about it either- and even if they were to, it's not happening.
I might not know why the fight happened, I might not know the whole story, but I'm sick of the story already. I paid the down-payment for my freedom, I'm not about to risk it all. I'm not much of a gambler anyways- I rock at Cheat because of the few gambles I play.
I don't think I need to know the rest of the story behind the ending to see that it was one story that doesn't need a sequel. Not a sequel with me in it.
There's too much Yogurt and not enough Fruit...
I have decided I do not like eating bacteria cultures. I can hear them screaming in agony as they slide down my throat to their doom. But apparently that’s part of their work description, like fire fighters going into flaming buildings to help people. Except this is on both a larger, and smaller, scale.
Larger because there’s probably billions of these poor, unfortunate bacteria dudes and dudettes going down my throat all suped up in the creamy-strawberry-ness of the decided flavoring by people too big to care about them (wait, is every bit of yogurt a bacteria, or only parts of it??). Smaller because, well, it’s me! Over here! One person, no longer burning since my fever went down.
Yes, I’m very close to being all better, but I still have to keep up with these screaming little guys and gals for another…7 and a half days, I believe.
It’s blackening my conscience. It’s turning me evil. I will soon be fit to be an evil overlord. I even have the laugh coming along: MUWAHAHAHAHA *insert coughing here*
Can you squish bacteria between your tongue and the roof of your mouth/spoon? If you can, please don’t tell me, I’m feeling sick enough right now...
Larger because there’s probably billions of these poor, unfortunate bacteria dudes and dudettes going down my throat all suped up in the creamy-strawberry-ness of the decided flavoring by people too big to care about them (wait, is every bit of yogurt a bacteria, or only parts of it??). Smaller because, well, it’s me! Over here! One person, no longer burning since my fever went down.
Yes, I’m very close to being all better, but I still have to keep up with these screaming little guys and gals for another…7 and a half days, I believe.
It’s blackening my conscience. It’s turning me evil. I will soon be fit to be an evil overlord. I even have the laugh coming along: MUWAHAHAHAHA *insert coughing here*
Can you squish bacteria between your tongue and the roof of your mouth/spoon? If you can, please don’t tell me, I’m feeling sick enough right now...
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