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Tuesday, 19 January 2016

The Highest Point Of Feeling Low


I think my biggest fear in life is that I won't be remembered for anything.
To go through life without impacting the lives of others.
Is there anything as tragic as that?

At some point you've got to learn that the things you do in high school: the embarrassing moments, the fall outs, the people you met or didn't meet; probably won't matter at all once you leave. Chances are that you might not keep your friends either. Not everyone's worth trying for.

And the way you felt that Monday afternoon when it felt like no one really liked you probably won't matter. Neither will the moments when you felt like you just weren't smart enough. Or felt like trying. The questions you answered in class won't matter because who in their right mind could ever care so much as to remember such a small thing. And the way you felt answering them won't. Even if for a split second you felt like the smartest person alive.

Maybe just maybe you'll forget about the sleepless nights and fights with yourself.The days spent deliberating what to say and how to act just so you'd feel accepted. Because not even the things people say to you will matter. Nor will the crushes or how bad you were at basketball. Or how bad you were at basketball in front of your crush. Let's face it, he still doesn't know you exist, let alone care enough to remember how crap you were at basketball two summers ago.

And perhaps nothing will really matter. Not the Spanish lessons. Not the awkward encounters or how many times you've been pushed or trodden on. And it's probably not going to matter about the amount of times you've cried or wished that you were invisible. It might not even matter about the time that 11 year old harassed you on your way to the bus stop and how close you were to whooping her ass. Believe it or not, the people you bumped into won't matter either. No matter how outrageous their reaction was.

Maybe in the end a lot of things won't matter. But the person we become sure as hell does and there's no denying that. So in other words, just don't be an arse.

I think one of the greatest things about high school whilst you're there- and trust me there are very few- has to be the people you meet. Sure they probably won't matter down the line, but for the brief period of time that they do, they really do. Don't get me wrong, your guaranteed to meet a few douche canoes from time to time, (or maybe almost all the time) but at some point you're bound to stumble upon someone amazing.


And it's all about finding yourself, right? Finding the person you are: the things you like, dislike , loathe. Building the person you are or more rather breaking your spirit and grinding your confidence to a pulp. I kid. But in all honesty I still don't know who the heck I am. Of course you could argue that I've still got 2 years left, but nothing really changes the fact that I am an ever evolving, complex mesh of cells. For goodness sake I change my mind on an hourly basis let alone daily. I  I won't find myself in high school. I'll find certain aspects of myself, but I sure as hell won't ever be able to find myself fully. And that's cool with me. I'm kind of winging it, and although I'd like to think that I know what I'm doing, I do not. I wish I did. It'd sure make it easier. God, it'd make it so much easier. But if all the year were playing holidays, to sport would be as tedious as to work. Wouldn't it?

4 comments:

  1. I love this post so much. I especially love what you said about finding parts of yourself in high school but most definitely not yourself fully. Thank you for reminding me that all those cringe-worthy regretful moments won't matter and probably don't even now. Sometimes I feel like high school really does beat my confidence into a pulp, but then there's all the good moments too, and maybe I'm just being negative.

    -M
    The Life of Little Me

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    1. So half a month too late but I suppose better late than never right? Lol I'm sorry. Thank you. I think it's easy to forget that like everything ,it's all just a stage in your life and at some point you'll do something so much more worth remembering that the bad days will no longer be clear enough to remember.

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  2. I don't know how to feel.
    If flailing your arms was an emotion, that'd be it. But then there's the feeling in your chest that has no word while you're flailing your arms. It's a frantic mix of all the feelings implied from reading the thing, and wanting to be understood, and being understood, and memories of the experiences that relate most to this, and the fights in your mind and the hate and the hate and the hate and the need to run and the pointlessness of everything and the stress and the anger and fear over nothing in particular and the pointlessness pointlessness pointlessness and aloofness and so ALIVE for a split second and the dead, dead feeling and a vague wish to be dead and glimpses of the future because there IS one and knowing that nothing matters and yet everything matters SO MUCH to shape you in to that faraway future you.
    *heavy breathing*
    *elephant noises*
    I know how I feel. I know exactly how I feel, and in that amount of time I was feeling so horrible I don't know if reading this at the time it was written would have dragged me out faster or pulled me down deeper. But now it's here in my head, read half a month late, and everything is fine.
    I also realize that I am a Latino Uncle who may or may not wear crocs. Is that because I mentioned that I might be a grouchy, middle-aged Latino uncle (I can't remember if I did) or because I'm just that awesome?

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    1. Lol your comments get me every time. But the elephant noises were a really nice touch. And I can't help but feel that this would win some sort of award at a spoken word competition.Especially the brief intermission in between the speech in which you breathe heavily and make elephant noises.
      And in response to your last few sentences my amigo, you're just that awesome. I'd probably even go so far as to say you're a Latino spunkle (spunky uncle).kinda like the one uncle at a party who doesn't know why they're there but they're causally hitting that lawn mower any way.

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