29 September, 2011

Full-on Mega Super Ultra Ranting POWER.

So there's a boy in my year (NEVER mentioning names in this thing, oh my God, never) who I've known for the past three years and at the beginning of those three years he seemed...elusive. Mysterious, charming and witty. And fantastically attractive, too. Now, three years on? Every fibre in my being detests his very existence every time I pass him. He does not have a single good word for me. It's all nasty comments, put-downs, mockery of my being in a lower Maths set then him, or not having his apparent sporting prowess...manifested by being loud and thrusting desperately forward for any hint of a team captaincy or a chance to BE IN CONTROL. He's also very attention seeking, ALWAYS talking/singing/shouting so loudly, it's enough to give anyone a headache. He doesn't walk; oh no, a walk is far too little for this ruffian, he chooses a swagger instead. Always. Flaunting his various achievements, gets a little boring after a while. So, you just tune out. And recently, I've discovered that actually, strip away the witticisms and all you're left with is a hollow, self-centered shell slowly caving in on itsself because that's how desperate it is to look at itsself all the time. I'm just so furious with him, every word that comes out of his mouth is either arrogant, perverted or insulting. After a while you just lose the humour. And it's for that reason that, not only do I feel a slight irritation, a mild anger towards this boy, but a huge, reckless, gut-twisting FURY every time I see him. I hope he ends up alone because, really? Companionship is too good for this boy. Say what you want about teenage testosterone poisoning, but he's far too clever to realise that there's a stereotype to conform to...this is all his own work. Kids, idolise this.

Perfection is a strange mistress.

Everyone wants it. Some think they have it. But no-one understands it. You listen to the people who tell you that they don't want a perfect life; they're lying.hey want a life full of arguments and hardships, to challenge Of course they do, we all do. They say to themselves, to be able to prove themselves. Well, that's what perfection obviously is to them. I can't but I'll try to define it; to me, perfection is what YOU want. No, not you in particular, lonely, Sri-Lankan man, not you little Latino woman, NOT YOU ENGLISH BOY! I mean EVERYONE. Everyone has some idea of what to do, or what to get to make them happy in their lifetime. So, that's perfection. I don't personally think life would be perfect without a few testy arguments, a few cross words...I think, given the good and the bad times, everyone wants perfection. And I love how no-one ever seems to achieve it; maybe they do...maybe they just don't know what to do with it.
Perfection, right now, for me is a blissfully tidy room, all my homework done, totally on course for A's and A*'s in my GCSE's (more about that later!), opportunities to visit the uni of my dreams, and no trouble from anyone. So, that's it. I hope that everyone sets themselves goals to get to their personal idea of perfection, because that's my raison d'etre, my reason for living. :)

04 September, 2011

Conflict of interests.

I have, unofficially, two days (one and two halves) of the summer holidays left. I go back to school, I start Year Ten on Tuesday 6th September at 12:00pm. And I'm feeling wierd about it. You know why? Because, although I've been longing to sink back into the routine of school, school, school, WEEKEND, school etc. I'm going to miss the unadulterated freedom to do whatever, whenever with...whoever, really. Because that's just it; in the six weeks of freedom that I gratefully receive once every year, I can choose not to see particular people, or I can choose to spend days on end with the same person, just because I want to. Unfortunately, at school, I cannot choose who, or when, to spend time with people that I want to. I'm lumped into five classes a day with some people that, yes, I do love, but that, no, I do really, really dislike. You tend to naturally avoid the rude, abrasive people because they're difficult to talk to, to share things with. How on earth are you supposed to talk to a girl that hates you for being whatever she's heard, about a holiday in Cornwall, for example? It's difficult, mainly, because I just do NOT understand what there possibly is to talk about, to have in common, with such people. And it's their own fault; if they want friends, they'll make it easy for you. But if they don't, they will coolly leave you to flounder until you sputter yourself into oblivion. I mean, seriously? Is it really possible that I can have nothing in common, nothing whatsoever to interest the people that dislike me? Or, if there is a topic that grabs their attention, God knows it's only going to be something unstable, something that will spark off an arguement. For this reason, my iPod is my confidante in school, for the most part. Well, for the first couple of weeks until everyone is used to everyone again...