Never was. Never will. All those years pursuing a false dream.
I get it now. It hurts but I'll get over it.
I've nothing. Just your regular teen. Nothing. Empty. SHALLOW! Worthless.
Where was my English? Taken without consent!
Now, where is my writing? It's all gone. Once again taken by this damn crappy school. I would never want to remember I was there. It would be the darkest years I've ever had. The prison that nearly killed me. The prison that ruined everything. And I let it do so. I let it destroy me. Why? 'Cause I can't leave it. I CAN'T! Trust me, if I could, I would and I'd do it QUICKLY. But I can't. I know I have to endure this. I know I've no other choice.
Cruel school of Crap
Here's to You, Your Treachery
Damn you all,curse you
There you have it. Your 5-7-5 Effin' Haiku. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do.
I will never forget this hell of a school.
- The Martian Kid
- I Have Multiple Worlds in My head. Check out My Tumblr and Twitter Accounts. Don't Tell Me. I know I bore you.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Pen-less Writer
I changed my twitter username. The reason? Quite simple. I lost my Art the only thing I kept for myself. I should mourn. But I can't seem too. I know there is too much of everything that I have to do. Again, I wish I was somewhere else. To the biggest "what-if" of my life. Before, my art was my art. I thought I was good at it. I thought it loved me the way I did it. But it didn't. And I wasn't.
What hurt could compare by being fooled to believe that you belonged somewhere when you don't? That's what I felt. I felt I belonged to writing and it belonged to me. But to certain circumstances, it drifted away and away. My bubble, the bubble binding me to my art burst as I feared. I was exactly the person I detested way back. Shallow. With no means of expression. It was hard to see how people seem to be way better than you in your area, your zone, your territory when they don't seem the type who belong there. You want to keep them out and be selfish. Keep your piece of the world all to yourself but you could never.I read their works far better than mine.Who was I then to claim that I was a writer when my works couldn't be compared to theirs? Some call this insecurity, but why should I not be threatened? We're all animals. Competition is a part of our lives. But I never expected it to affect me as much as it is affecting me now. I felt my self-confidence drop to zero. Now that my art, my asset, my love was gone .... What am I to the World? Where's my place in it? And:
If I would ever write again,
I would write through blood and tears
that cause me pain
urging me to surrender once again.
What hurt could compare by being fooled to believe that you belonged somewhere when you don't? That's what I felt. I felt I belonged to writing and it belonged to me. But to certain circumstances, it drifted away and away. My bubble, the bubble binding me to my art burst as I feared. I was exactly the person I detested way back. Shallow. With no means of expression. It was hard to see how people seem to be way better than you in your area, your zone, your territory when they don't seem the type who belong there. You want to keep them out and be selfish. Keep your piece of the world all to yourself but you could never.I read their works far better than mine.Who was I then to claim that I was a writer when my works couldn't be compared to theirs? Some call this insecurity, but why should I not be threatened? We're all animals. Competition is a part of our lives. But I never expected it to affect me as much as it is affecting me now. I felt my self-confidence drop to zero. Now that my art, my asset, my love was gone .... What am I to the World? Where's my place in it? And:
If I would ever write again,
I would write through blood and tears
that cause me pain
urging me to surrender once again.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Backing Out
I do this a lot. I do this when I get scared, feel threatened or even just an excuse to do nothing. I feel no need to leave a mark anywhere. I am a WALLFLOWER. I hate it when I do this. I hate it and who doesn't? When you're surrounded by people who do their best, it's all the more frustrating. I can't do it. I can't seem to find the courage of dedicating myself to something and just giving it my all.
Thus, I envy people. The "Green-Eyed Monster" is almost my constant company. How could they do it? There is a high risk? Why don't they fear this risk? Is it really worth it? I'm dying to find out what I'm truly passionate about and for some years I thought I have.
Writing. Those moments, the moments I've enjoyed thinking this is the one thing I would do for the rest of my life, those were the best. And when I was able to stand up to it, when i was finally accepted in an Arts School for an orientation, I held back. They were talented, and I hoped that so was I. I wanted to believe it but slowly I was shrinking. I was lost in a sea of people pursuing their dreams, doing their all. I was holding back, while they do their very best. And I know I won't make it.
Come judgement day, I wasn't picked. We had a well-to-do family income. I wasn't in desperate need of some scholarship and I already passed a science high school. Why go to some remote boarding school literally in the mountains to study about arts, who may or may not secure you a bright future?
That was the biggest risk I ever took for me and for my dream. And at the same time, as of now, it is still the biggest what-if in my life. What if I was in some Arts School right now? Would the Maths be any different? Would they not torture me as hard as the Maths in my current Science School? I would never hear the end of this.
Thus, I envy people. The "Green-Eyed Monster" is almost my constant company. How could they do it? There is a high risk? Why don't they fear this risk? Is it really worth it? I'm dying to find out what I'm truly passionate about and for some years I thought I have.
Writing. Those moments, the moments I've enjoyed thinking this is the one thing I would do for the rest of my life, those were the best. And when I was able to stand up to it, when i was finally accepted in an Arts School for an orientation, I held back. They were talented, and I hoped that so was I. I wanted to believe it but slowly I was shrinking. I was lost in a sea of people pursuing their dreams, doing their all. I was holding back, while they do their very best. And I know I won't make it.
Come judgement day, I wasn't picked. We had a well-to-do family income. I wasn't in desperate need of some scholarship and I already passed a science high school. Why go to some remote boarding school literally in the mountains to study about arts, who may or may not secure you a bright future?
That was the biggest risk I ever took for me and for my dream. And at the same time, as of now, it is still the biggest what-if in my life. What if I was in some Arts School right now? Would the Maths be any different? Would they not torture me as hard as the Maths in my current Science School? I would never hear the end of this.
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