Yes, I am well aware that I am behind in Scintilla. So, let’s get started
For the Twenty-Three things I have decided to do twenty-three lines of poetry describing my life/events from January to now. Not really poetry, though…
Two more weeks and I will be a freshman.
I’m excited and nervous (surprise, surprise.)
E.T. is noticing me again and I don’t know why
School is okay; a lot of work and a lot of anxiety.
Lonely. The exact thing everyone told me it wouldn’t be
The guy in my math class asked for my number
No matter how mature I try to be, they are going to stick to the common view
Do not make the mistake of thinking I am like them.
With glares that say, “You’re a bitch,”
I am running out of hope, out of everything
Nothing seems to numb the pain
I wish I was fixable, and lovable
One of my classmates said, “Mi favorita mujer es Cecelia.”
Other people notice me: Math Man talks to me less and less
Told Math Man that I will not be able to hangout with him tomorrow.
Her reasoning is “I’ve learned by lesson with the others and I am not so naïve anymore.”
They have beautiful bodies, gorgeous faces, awesome personalities,
Really talented, and they’re tall.
I am a really stupid, ugly little shrew with nice teeth
I don’t know what is worse: losing the man you like, care for, love
—what have you—to a girl and watching them ride of into the sunset
Or losing him to a girl who only liked him to get to another guy
But have her still fuck up your relationship.
Interesting poem but makes no sense.
Pet peeves….. Okay, the first one that springs to mind is people who act a certain way but when they meet the actual thing, they reject it. Who? Well, like the people who act dark, grunge, and such. I was the real thing and got rejected. I was the one who wore actual animal bone earrings, painted animal skulls, actually enjoyed strange music, voiced my opinion and didn’t conform to what others believed. I thought and believed what I believed because in my heart that was what was true. I never thought something because someone told me to think it.
I never bothered lying about how I felt about something. I don’t hide things because I make it a goal to only do things that aren’t… shame-worthy? Sure, I fuck up, and I have fucked up royally several times but who hasn’t when it comes right down to it? What counts is if you change or not.
Back to the point, though: I hate posers and liars. Why bother pretending to be something else? Honestly what are people going to do to you? Act like little brats? Yes, I get that words can deliver more pain than a brass-knuckle punch but why hang around people who don’t like you? Stop lying and seek out those who don’t hurt you, and stop ostracizing those of us who are what you pretend to be.
I am not going to do Scintilla eleven because I have never been interviewed and I changing how a story ends only hurts because It is usually how I wanted it to end.