The days aren't growing better, but I'm coping fine.
Still as annoyingly cynical as ever, and some things are starting to irk me ... but it's okay. I think my policy of playing it nice will pull me through. Somehow I treasure my solitude now more than anything else. It's quite conflicting, in the sense that while I want people to talk to me and engage in small talk, I want to be alone.
It's going to be a pretty ... hellish week, I suppose.
Yesterday's end of the Public Performance shocked me, honestly. To think that after months of tolerating slots, and wondering when it's all going to end - it just ends like this. Felt the sense of loss, and the fear of being a senior. In ways we're all seniors now, embarking on our Individual Skills.
I think, honestly, I'm going to miss crewing.
Design workshop today was pretty inspiring and intimidating at the same time. As much as I'm set on set design [ ha ] ... the sense of not being able to match up to my own standards scare me. I only hope I do the play I'm going to choose justice.
I'm moving LJs, finally. Haven't decided if it'll go public / Friends Only, but when I do I'll let everyone know. Sorry for the inconvenience in advance.
I wish more than anything in the world now that I know what paths to take. It's driving me nuts, just wondering about the 'what ifs' and all as usual.
Cannonball still brings so much meaning at this point of time in life. Please stop calling me - I'm running out of ways to say sorry.
I've started a series of attitude icons. :] Based on an idea by the lovely vivmuffin. Am aiming to hit 100 icons [ the things I do with my time, really. ] and putting it up for general usage.
My mum ... seems unhappy about me doing social work, and I'm at the crossroads now, deciding what to do.
Am cutting my hair. Just feel like doing so. Like running. New changes for being 17, I suppose. Need to shed off everything that's happened like a snake shedding its skin. And a desperate, desperate need, to make being 17 different from any of the other years.
My mum is brilliant [ sarcastic tone ]. To cure my fantastic loss of voice - having a horrendously low voice means that when you lose your voice, you sound outrageously terrible - I poked around the fridge and popped a Strepsils in my mouth. Waved the box at her and asked if this was okay, and she glazed over it and said "yeah."
Moments later, she came to me and told me to stop eating the Strepsils cos' it's actually for coughs, and it should not be taken for sore throats ... and the last time she did that, she ended up with a mysterious case of food poisoning. Great, just great. Now excuse me if I mysteriously vanish from school.
I realised we're drifting. [ this is targeted to a mass bunch of people ]
I want to say a few words on popularity, but I'll keep that for some other time because already people are muttering about my insanely long posts. :]
ISABEL WOLFF has a new book. ((: GLEE. It seems fantastic, as usual. I have never, ever, regretted stepping into that bookshop in Wellington, NZ in Sec 2, even when it was closing, and buying that random book out of the blue over the popular bestseller.
I realised, I'm hopeless at dealing with grief. I can do Miss Counseller, Dear Annie, and what not. Rescuing Rose by Isabel Wolff, a chick lit book, surprisingly has lessons to part. I suppose all of us are Rose of sorts. We like to feel needed, we like to feel that hey, people treasure our advice. We help others to help ourselves, as Theo mentioned. I'm going to skip the bit on altrusism. But really, when other than giving comfort, I can't do anything else - it's out of my own capacity.
I care, but I can't care enough to make you see, I suppose. Does that even make sense? So I'm very sorry, if you looked at me, hoping that I would draw you out of the circle, but you can't see past the stoned face. I'm sorry if you got so incensed and thought I don't care. It's not that I don't. But it's that I can't do anything. And I don't mind being the one who's there to look over you, even if I'm not the one beside you and telling you it's going to be okay.
Growing up is such an integral part of our lives, yet while we all want to grow up, I guess some part of us [ or at least me ] wants to stay small and happy in the world. Being a child is the loveliest thing in life. Everytime I see a child smile and grin, it never fails to make me happy, because it reminds me of what I aspire to be.