new at being a teenager
at a school
I won’t remember
and had little significance in
the rest of my life
I recall only
I had bigger boobs
wore 3xs the size
I do now
people calling me
slow runner in track
the blue lip gloss
I thought was cute
but my crush said
I looked like a smurf
I fought with my crush
to get better grades
I was on honor roll a lot
he liked a model
I also had a crush on my art teacher
he turned out to be a pervert
up staff members skirts
I sat with the outcasts
they talked about
pot and choking the chicken
both I knew nothing of
they thought I was too good
I went to a school dance
there was no dancing
but my so called friends
to get high
My writing sucks.
It’s confusing, improper, and there’s too many errors. I might as well give up, there is no future being a writer unless I want to live with my mother forever.
I’m not just crazy, I’m clinically crazy now — it’s all your fault.
Anxiety, OCD, manic bi-polar, and narcissistic — all things I WASN’T before but am convinced I am now.
I still have no friends and no one likes me.
I still don’t give a flying fuck.
I’m still not over that one asshole and I’m still dating an asshole.
Think college would change how I secretly wish they’d get their head out of their ass? Well, it didn’t. If anything, the asshole yelling in my face and insulting me triggered me to think about other people.
Not everyone or everything on campus sucks.
There’s a few good people. My definition of good would most likely be the people I danced with. My most positive college experience was dancing.
I will never work in groups again.
It hardly ever ends well.
You still have to pay me for me to say something nice about someone’s work.
I’m sorry, I’m not sorry I can’t be nice or positive about someone’s writing especially when I think they are fake or their writing sucks. I’ll give them comments that aren’t rude — that’s it. I need to be true to myself even if that means not pretending to like someone or something I don’t like.
Going to class.
Is really like…
– You’re older than most of your classmates.
-College stories and gossip do not phase you. They’re just annoying.
-You have very, very little money. So, if you get hungry or thirsty you can’t just go get something. The last thing you want is campus food, anyways.
-Constantly need to figure out how to get back and forth to school.
-Have to stay on campus several hours a day. Can’t just go home. It takes away gas and time.
-If you have to cancel something for personal/financial reasons — you’re the bad guy.
-Many people don’t understand that you don’t live on campus — and don’t want a social life with people you will never see again.
-People just assume you’re the same age as everyone else — and live on campus
-Much older people call you a kid. You don’t know if it’s because they see everyone that way — or if you should be offended because you’re not.
-Hardly see your partner. Schedules make it difficult.
-Don’t know if you will graduate.
Expectation: Studying and writing an essay.
Reality: Reading a paragraph and writing a sentence.
Expectation: Going to dance practice.
Reality: Nail in tire. Sleep instead.
Expectation: I will go home tonight and get some sleep.
Reality: Going to your boyfriends house and having sex.
Expectation: I’m just going to watch television tonight.
Reality: Drinking Vodka and getting extremely drunk.
Expectation: No drunk sex.
Reality: Trying new-weird sex positions.
Expectation: Talking to boyfriend about life, problems, and feelings.
Reality: Arguing with each other. He made a comment about a girls boobs and you called him a disgusting pervert.
Expectation: Not spending money.
Reality: Buying a bunch of really cute clothes in the mall and online you wore once — and decided you look ridiculous in it.
Expectation: Putting a nose stud in. (corkscrew)
Reality: You just can’t fucking do it. Now you have a big red dot on your nose and it looks like a popped zit.
Expectation: Having dinner and going to sleep.
Reality: Trying a mixed drink — something weird like pineapple and Vodka. Mind racing — you stay awake staring at the ceiling for two hours.
1. You look less like a dumbass.
You just met this really awesome hot guy/girl. The first question they ask is, “What do you do?” You’re stumped. You have no idea how to say, I dropped out of high school and am currently unemployed without sounding like a loser. You think its best to ignore the question and talk about your cool interests — kayaking, racing, and bonfires.
2. You learn how to write.
Cover letters, resumes, stories, essays, and critiques on things you want to burn in pieces. But, imagine if you sent a cover letter to a potential employer in text message language? It would probably look something like this: hey i think u should hire me cuz im a really hard worker and i always go to places and do things on time. i hope u take the time to look over my resume i really really wanna work for u i promise ill do well thank u i hope to c u soon.
3. You learn how to analyze junk.
Something is really, really wrong here — I didn’t like this chicks Facebook status’ before now I really can’t stand it. I want to pull my hair out. She is suggesting that her boyfriend is an asshole and doesn’t feed his child? Why the hell would she post that on Facebook? Does she know people are watching her? Is there something wrong with her? Is that normal?
4. Maybe get a job, that’s not fast food.
Maybe, if you do things that’s not just “homework” outside of school. It’s great you take your studies seriously, but how are you going to make connections (that can get you friends/good acquaintances) if all you do is stare at a screen? When an employer looks at your resume, they are going to see — oh you were really involved, you had an average GPA but you did fine with everything else.
If you know a lot of smart people or become the teachers pet in college — you could get away with sliding by in college, doing less work, and spending most of your time on social media. After school… you may get a good job or be left completely in the dust. Remember, this is all a system. They don’t actually care about you, they don’t know you personally — they’re just doing their job.
Welcome to the “real” world.
In high school?
A skater — or at least I thought I was. (I would paint, write in my journal, play acoustic guitar — badly, run on a treadmill — a lot, read books, do homework, talk to my online boyfriend, starve myself, and cry to sleep. I was in the journalism and french club — got mocked for.)
Everyday — I wore jeans and some stupid black shirt or tank top. Lots of eyeliner, black eyeshadow, and rings on my fingers.
I slept and doodled in Math class. To the point, my teacher got sick of it — and kicked me out of class. I got to hangout in the library in the corner. I had no friends.
I failed Math numerous times. I did well in all my other classes and took them seriously. I wouldn’t have admitted it, I probably would have gotten mocked or something. Who knows my mind back then. I was very hormonal.
First few years of college.
You really don’t want to know. Trust me. First year, academic prohibition. Second year, flunked out. I didn’t take it seriously. I didn’t even do my work. I was like oh, fuck this shit, I’m going to drive my car and have sex with ____. My lovely boyfriend I dated for one month. After that well, like I said… you don’t want to know. It’s a long, long, long… story. I tried to smug it in a short essay once, it didn’t work.
So. I’m here. Again.
Aspirin [ ]
Coffee [ ]
Soda [ ]
Energy drinks [ ]
There’s no way in the hell you can live without it.
Music that makes you want to…
Kill someone [ ]
Dance [ ]
Sleep [ ]
Must either get you motivated, happy, relaxed, or make you less bored then you already are.
Sneakers [ ]
Sunglasses [ ]
Hat [ ]
Hoodie [ ]
That way you can go burn off energy by going for a run/working out at the gym when you get angry – or hide when you don’t want to deal with people.
Cry. When your finally alone. A world of problems. Why won’t my flash drive work? Why is he/she such an ass. What am I going to do with my degree? I really, really, really… just want to leave — but if I do I’ll be working at McDonald’s the rest of my life.
Sleep disorders. It takes twenty-four hours to write a paper I know will suck — but it’s better than getting a zero.
Eating disorders. I don’t have time for breakfast or lunch. When I eat, I’ll probably eat twice my weight — then go to the gym the next day to burn it all off.
Be pissed off. Must work with lazy group members. Must listen to a ignorant professor. Must try not to look annoyed.