No Time to Write?

If you haven’t realized, I have been posting a lot less frequently as of late. Again, school has started, and I may not be able to post as often. I’ve got too many hard classes and extracurriculars. Also, my posts may not be as high-quality as usual…which I personally despise, but whatevs. But I try to keep posting at least once a month, just to force myself to write something.

But, also, a reason I have not been posting is that I have been working on a potential play, so…there’s that too. It will be growing up. Hopefully I’ll be able to post that soon.

So, yeah, here’s sort of an update on what I’ve been doing for the past couple of months, and…see you next time???

 

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We Grew up at Midnight.

The streets are empty. The night is dark. The earth is quiet save for the sound of my own footsteps, meandering through the darkness. I’m kept from falling by nothing but the soft moonlight drifting through the clouds. A couple of stars twinkle in the sky, beckoning my eyes upward. I walk with no aim, no purpose, no reason, save that of pure escape. Now, walking is not a means to an end. It is its own end.

Tomorrow, I’ll have officially seen fifteen summers. So maybe I really haven’t seen enough to judge. But I get this feeling that maybe, just maybe, I’ve seen too much. Of human kindness, human ecstasy, human ambition, human frailty, human sorrow, human hatred, human revenge…humans in general.

And I realized that many people hated me. But I also realized that having one or two people who loved me and a dozen who hated me is better than having nobody at all feel anything at all toward me. The ones who love me make up for anything and everything the ones who hate me can do or say toward me.

And I found out that no matter how hard you work behind the scenes to achieve the amount of success you have, people will step up shamelessly to defame you, crying “dishonest,” “cunt,” “unworthy.” But I also found out that the only reason these pathetic bitches slander other people out of pure spite and jealousy is that deep down, they’re the ones who feel the most empty and unworthy, and only mind others’ business in order to feel better about themselves. And at the end of the day, they’re the reason behind most of the pain, envy, and hatred in the world.

And I found out that the ones you loved and were so good to might be the ones who end up fucking you over. But I only wish that didn’t matter. Because though I shall always remember that “love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love, cannot be killed or swept aside,” how much does it take for one to realize that love indeed is not all you need?

And I realized that I am unconsciously selfish. But it’s not even my intention that I get all stuck on the nitty-gritty and forget sometimes to reach out to others. For what is the point of existence beside to minimize suffering and maximize happiness for every life we touch?

But despite all this, I still have no idea what I’m doing. I still have yet to figure myself out emotionally, socially, mentally…I am anxious and depressed, socially inept, and though people think I’m smart, goddammit I fuckin’ ain’t, at most things. It’s just that many people equate smartness with good grades. Let’s see how wrong they actually are in 10 years.

So I don’t know how to deal with people; goddammit, I don’t even know who I am, what I want to do with my own life, let alone how to enter the lives of others. And I guess that’s okay. I may not grow up at midnight; I may not grow up at twenty-one; I may never grow up. But that’s okay…or so I hope.

An Ode to Talkativeness [Random Rambles]

The more you talk, the better you feel.

I used to be silent, thinking that the more I talked, the more annoying I would be, but then I realized that everybody hated me despite this (or, rather, because of this). So I was like, fuck it, this strategy sure ain’t working, and reading this article cemented my inkling that, no, it really wasn’t working. So I began to talk a bit more. I started by talking to people who didn’t intimidate me, and people with whom I would like to be friends. Then my circle of talkativeness widened, and weirdly, the more I talked, the better I felt. Also, the more I talked, the better I was at talking and having a more interesting personality.

My depression, though it still exists, has not come back to haunt me in the form of suicidal thoughts. My anxiety, though it still exists, has ceased to give me nightmares and panic attacks every day. Though I still get nightmares and panic attacks, they have been toned down and occur less frequently.

I guess talking is just a way to distract yourself, at the end of the day. But you can also make friends along the way, and I guess with mental health issues, the more you can distract yourself healthily, whether it be with schoolwork, work, activities, or hanging out with friends, the better.

I don’t mean that talkativeness is good without bounds – once you hit a certain level, you do get annoying. But I guess if you realize you’re being annoying by talking too much, then that probably means you haven’t yet hit that level. If you’re really annoying, then you don’t ever realize you’re being annoying.

Moreover, a byproduct of being talkative and faking your happiness is that at the end of the day, you really become happier and less vulnerable. Numerous psychological studies suggest that the more you smile, the happier you are. Also, people who are more talkative and less marginalized in society get “fucked over” less – assholes are a bit scared of happy people with lots of friends, might I say.

So, yeah, I guess this concludes my “random rambles” this time, and I now have to go back to being productive. I have a PowerPoint due Tuesday about McCarthyism and the Salem Witch Trials, and I cannot procrastinate more…see you next time.

Summertime Sadness

NOT.

I love the summertime. Maybe it’s the lack of stress and the ability for me to do whatever the fuck I want in these 3 months, or because I don’t have to deal with the annoying kids at my school, or it’s the weather and how it’s always so pretty outside, but the result is that for the past couple of years summer has been the only time when I’m not suicidally depressed. Seriously. Stress, anxiety, and depression build up inside me during the 9 months of the school year, and over the summer, I slowly get better. But by the time I’m 87-ish percent healed, school restarts. Every time. So then I start school in a decent mood, but every year this mood at the start of the school year also gets just a little bit worse, because 3 months is obviously not enough for me to become thoroughly fine again, and my sadness just builds up off of that remainder 13% of sad me.

Also, if you’ve made it thus far, you are a genius. I post this sort of stuff on an anonymous blog mainly because people think I’m fucking insane when I say this to them, and I don’t blame them for it – I’m not very descriptive. And, just for the record, I’m not complaining – I know that I’m extremely privileged, especially compared to, say, the starving kids in rural Ghana.

But anyway, I don’t know if it’s just me, but every single summer I have this dread in the back of my head of school restarting. It’s like an hourglass or a “progress bar” of good times, if you will – you hope to manipulate gravity so that the sand moves more slowly, or even reverses itself, or you hope to somehow hack the computer so that the progress bar stays at 10% instead of inching toward 99%.

And I don’t know about you, but usually after, say, 2-3 weeks of the summer, my life starts going back into a routine. And then the days pass as quickly as the pages in a good novel.

And then school starts back up again.

But, this time, I swear, it’s going to be different…

Commitment Issues


Have you ever had the problem where you have a thousand good ideas but end up starting maybe a hundred and finishing like zero? Well, at least I do.

It’s not because the ideas are boring or difficult or anything like that, but just that half the time I think of a good theme or title…and then get writer’s block when I really sit down to do it. And these commitment issues also apply to other things like school and investment, but just on a lesser scale, probably because these activities are a lot less creativity-intensive.

And, of course, this also applies to people.

I promise myself I’ll spend more time around someone or get to know him/her better, but I almost never follow through on the promise I make myself, not because I don’t want to commence meaningful relationships with good people, but because as soon as I sit/stand next to that said person, I start questioning every word I say and plan for a good “exit strategy.” And somehow I don’t do this consciously…the result, anyway, is my nodding to everything the other party says and then the other party giving me an odd look or asking me if I’m okay because I’m acting so. fucking. weird. (I know it’s weirdly, but bear with me – this is a blog post, not an article or anything that requires perfect grammar).

Also, it’s probably too early for me to even consider this, but the idea of marriage scares me shitless. Actually. Somehow, I can’t stand the idea of “tying the knot” – I just am too scared of ending up with the wrong guy, and getting married simply complicates the process of separation, which, according to the statistics, is quite inevitable…(more than half of American couples eventually get divorced, and out of the ones who don’t get divorced, a decent portion probably aren’t very happy either.). Furthermore, I don’t trust my own ability to trust someone, but that is another topic for another day.

And this even permeates my career choices. The biggest reason I want to go into business is because I can be a businessperson in any field from tech to finance to real estate.

These are just a few examples of situations where I can’t commit to anything. Some others may include the fact that I’m too scared to adopt a pet – I’m scared of being a horrible pet owner and being stuck with inadvertently torturing the poor pet through neglect when I really mean to take care of it. I guess the same goes for any prospects for future children.

But, at any rate, I guess I’m just posting because I don’t know how else to try to resolve this issue – it’s starting to impact every single decision in my life, and it can sometimes make me so indecisive that even the tiniest choices, such as whether to write on topic number 1 or 2 on an essay test, give me a panic attack. But my anxiety is also another topic for another day.

i want to be 2 forever.

There. I said it.

All I want for life is just an endless supply of hugs, stuffed animals, food, & sleep. No kidding. I’ll be extremely satisfied if I have that, and, maybe to boot, not being judged for being honest & emotional. I don’t even want anything else at this point – studying, work, other people’s good opinions…fuck those pretentious fakes anyways.

I don’t even know what’s wrong with me – every teen I know wants to grow up, but I don’t.

I don’t want more freedom, if it means more responsibility.

I don’t want to be taken seriously, if it means having to be mature.

And it’s not because I get bad grades or am a failure currently. Somehow I have a cumulative 4.1 GPA, got a 5 (“extremely well qualified,” highest possible score) on my AP Euro exam (the only AP exam I’ve ever taken, b/c my school only lets us take 1 AP course in our sophomore year), & am just generally “smart,” “hard-working” & a “very successful student,” at least per my teachers. But I wonder how much I really like studying & that sort of shit when the only time I’m not extremely depressed is during the summer when I don’t have to study…

And I don’t want to “take the world by storm”…all I want is to make enough money to retire early & live out the rest of my life in a little cottage in Provence, southern France (if you haven’t been there, it’s breathtakingly beautiful) with a hundred stuffed animals & maybe a hamster or two. I don’t want to get married, and I despise the idea of having kids even more. I don’t even know what the fuck is wrong with me by this point. I guess I just hate commitment – I can’t commit to a single guy, I can’t commit to a single pet (I like hamsters because they have like 1-2 year lifespans), and I can’t commit to a single job (which is why I’m currently freelancing & will probably go into business, as you can be a business leader in basically any field from real estate to finance to tech to cosmetics), just like I can’t commit to anything else in my life.

Fiverr

So…I know 4 languages, am learning another 2, can do some basic programming in HTML/CSS, Python & JavaScript, have gotten national recognition for my language skills & knowledge in economics, and have a cumulative 4.1 GPA, but since I’m 14 nobody would hire me. Yeah. FML.

But anyway, recently I’ve found this amazing website courtesy to a YouTuber’s video (Safiya Nygaard’s vid on some YT Ad Haul or something) where I can really put my skills to use & make money. As the title suggests, it’s called Fiverr. On this, I will do some virtual assistant work (I do the busywork so you don’t have to!), translations between Simplified/Traditional Chinese, English, French, and Spanish, and editing/revision work, all starting at the price of $5 a gig.

And if you aren’t satisfied, I promise I will edit my work & make it so that you will be more than satisfied. Or your money back. (But I still don’t know how to refund money on Fiverr, since I just discovered the site last night. Oh well. I’ll try to figure that out ASAP.)

And, of course, for more information, please visit my website at https://www.fiverr.com/sktranslates.