I know there are people who are smarter than me and I know that it was my mistake taking two 4.0 classes in my freshman year and I know that no matter what I do you will never see what I really do and I know that there's other parents who brag about their kids' grades and I know it makes you feel really bad about your offspring, but please give me mercy; I'm doing my hardest.
I know sometimes you tell me to not call you mother anymore and I know the things that you tell father when you're in your room and I know that you see me as a burden to you and I know that you think that I'm doing nothing, but it's for the better. I don't tell you what I do because I know that you will not understand. I have tried time and time to tell you again and again--in a span of a decade and a half and more--for you to understand, but you never do and you keep on emotionally berating me for doing things that are, on the surface, not good. But through this care I've learned what's good for me in an unbiased viewpoint. I know what I am doing right now, and I have it under control. Sure I can zip it up in my heart but if only you'd understand, I would not have to. To my dismay, it bubbles up sometimes and I can't help it. If only you'd be okay.
My friend K is a delinquent; she's short, wearing the full face of makeup and talking about boys all the time. She drives a dingy, uninsured car. She takes me to eat. She cut my hair and now I look like a sphere with a bowl cut. She did horrible (like ceiling rounded to a 2/10) on the ASVAB. She might not be the brightest in the room, but she's taught me much more than the people I usually hang out with, namely my common comparisons, Y and E and L. I'm not the one to talk about the future and definitely not one to say that I know more about the future than you but yes, I feel like I am going to be with these kinds of people when I grow up. She's taught me the thrill of riding shotgun and blasting Ke$ha. She's taught me normal teenage drama. I, for one, look like a big fat nerd in her eyes, but she treats me like a cool friend.
I'm the person to trauma dump on my friends, too. Here--right at this moment that I am writing this, my friend S is DMing me about... well, things. When I revise this post before posting, heh, I bet that they're asking me things about life. Whatever
My friends do not know that I run this blog. Good. I need to keep my reputation, right? No. It doesn't matter to me anymore. When I first stepped foot into highschool, I would've dreamed to be val or sal or something, getting into HYPSM + Cal. Now, I can't believe how far that is from where I am now. Val or sal is so far away, and the only thing I'm dreaming about are food and cat videos and calculus in my sleep (i know). I wanna be an epic physicist when I grow up. I just... don't know.
There are some times where I get caught up in feelings. Sometimes I look back and think "when I get famous one day, I'll attribute none of that success to my mother" but you always come back and tell me that you're sorry for hitting me or the only thing that matters is my health and you're proud of me for living but i'm aware that it's not true right now. How could I believe it when it's happened tens of thousands of times--this vicious cycle that's so bad it's not a cycle anymore--I can't explain it in words that are grammatically correct. It's like observation and conclusion by true tangible results that are unchangeable which makes it enough to **assume** that it will never be false. (haha...avg math assumption...) But I know it's false because I could kill myself one day and I'll see you being sad when I die. How do I explain this using math? It's like notation that you have to wikipedia search. Maybe IDK the symbols for union or something but it's like--more abstract.
I dunno though. I really dunno. Maybe I trauma dump too much
