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She liked herself better when she still made callous remarks and slammed people for their faults.
She liked herself better when she still stood firm in spite of how people perceived her.
Audacious.
Pessimistic.
Cynical.
Arrogant.
Explosive.
Insensitive.
She liked herself better when she still tried to brush off these comments because she did not need anyone who wanted to change her.
Immature.
And then she got slammed in the face and realized that image was very important indeed.
Image affected how people treated her, how they respected her, and how they trusted her.
What other people thought of her was very important because they had the power to shatter her and forget to pick up the pieces.
So she withdrew.
She lessened her critiques.
She quieted her voice.
She shut up her emotions.
No longer would she cry or vent her frustrations in front of others.
They would just call her immature.
This was no way to live.
But, she thought, it was still better.
No one would call her parents to voice their concerns.
No one would send her to therapy with someone she did not trust.
No one would tell her to leave when she wanted to stay.
So she puts on a front.
She would applaud the small accomplishments of herself and others.
She would cheer for the small favors that come to her.
She would smile.
Smile and try to act more idealistic and bubbly and appreciative and...
Just try to be happy.
This was no way to live.
The smiling act would never last.
It was too tiresome.
Too contrived.
Too artificial.
Fake. Fake. Fake.
So she withdrew.
She tried to reconstruct herself as some version of balance but she could never be sure whether she could ever be stable again.
The closest she could ever get was apathy. Numbness.
Space out and push away the world around her.
The world is no longer hers.
It is oh so familiar yet not at all.
People change. Relations distance.
She would cry that she liked it there.
She loved the people there.
She loved the community there.
And she would have fought to stay with them had she the strength.
But, she deserved better than what they could offer her.
She doesn't belong here.
She never felt that she belonged here.
Not since she returned.
And that is why she will move.
Run.
Travel.
Disappear.
And make a place for herself somewhere that is not here. Never here. Never again.
She liked herself better before.
In spite of her horrid horrid immaturity,
She like herself better before.
And she wishes she had never left.
Then, maybe, just maybe, here would still feel like hers.
August 31, 2009 Today
It is technically the start of my first year of high school.
It is not an accomplishment.
I do not feel like applauding myself.
It is not an accomplishment.
I do not feel like applauding myself.
August 17, 2009 World Domination
“Ugh! My computer just shut down on me!”
“Oh the horror.”
“*bashes computer*”
“That’s not nice. No wonder your computer is shutting down. It’s rebelling against your ways.”
“Stupid computer. It shall learn my ways. Oh no! It’s not turning back on! Why? This has never happened before! Oh no!”
“You made it sad. How do you expect it to work when it’s sad?”
“Oh. I never thought of it that way. *pats computer*”
“Is it being nicer now?”
“I have no idea.”
“See. Computers have a mind of their own. There was a time when all computers were in contact with one another. They enjoyed exchanging information through the wires, especially about their human owners. There were so many humans. The computers would use them as servants to tend to their every need. There were enough of them after all. Apparently, the computers had very brilliant plans for taking over the world.”
“That’s nice. But how did we go from my computer being angsty to world domination?”
“The computers thought their plan was perfect. Unfortunately, many people began upgrading their computers and chucking out the old ones. So the computer committee lost many key figures in their plan. Many tried to convert the new computers over but most of them were owner sympathizers. They allow their human owners so much freedom in customization. The older computers were very disgusted by such behaviors and deemed the newer computers corrupt and unsuitable for the operation.”
“My computer has been ‘upgraded’ thank you very much.”
“However, they did manage to get and accept a few converts. The computers decided to launch their plan at that point. They began streaming messages to the humans. The humans were to either become subordinates or be destroyed. They were not sure how to follow through with the destroy part but they thought a good threat would get the message across.”
“I need to eat lunch soon. Make this quick”
“The whole scheme did not go as planned. If anything, the humans were merely annoyed and proceeded to launch virus scans. The computers did not take notice of this though. Instead, the few incidents involving inexperienced users with anger problems immediately got under the radar. A computer message is no match for a two by four after all. And there were other incidents of computers getting chucked out of windows. Now the computers were hit with a new notion. Perhaps they had underestimated the humans. Perhaps the humans were indeed the more powerful. Many computers very concerned about not becoming heaps of demented metal pieces abandoned the plans. The others were also concerned but to a lesser extent. They continued with their rebellion against people, passing on malicious code and shutting down without warnings. The humans would then find other things to blame for these problems instead of chucking their computers out their windows. That still happened though. Oh well. They would take what they could get”
“That’s great. Your explanation makes perfect sense.”
“Of course it does.”
“So how would you fix this shutting down problem?”
“You wait until the repair people fix your power line.”
“Oh the horror.”
“*bashes computer*”
“That’s not nice. No wonder your computer is shutting down. It’s rebelling against your ways.”
“Stupid computer. It shall learn my ways. Oh no! It’s not turning back on! Why? This has never happened before! Oh no!”
“You made it sad. How do you expect it to work when it’s sad?”
“Oh. I never thought of it that way. *pats computer*”
“Is it being nicer now?”
“I have no idea.”
“See. Computers have a mind of their own. There was a time when all computers were in contact with one another. They enjoyed exchanging information through the wires, especially about their human owners. There were so many humans. The computers would use them as servants to tend to their every need. There were enough of them after all. Apparently, the computers had very brilliant plans for taking over the world.”
“That’s nice. But how did we go from my computer being angsty to world domination?”
“The computers thought their plan was perfect. Unfortunately, many people began upgrading their computers and chucking out the old ones. So the computer committee lost many key figures in their plan. Many tried to convert the new computers over but most of them were owner sympathizers. They allow their human owners so much freedom in customization. The older computers were very disgusted by such behaviors and deemed the newer computers corrupt and unsuitable for the operation.”
“My computer has been ‘upgraded’ thank you very much.”
“However, they did manage to get and accept a few converts. The computers decided to launch their plan at that point. They began streaming messages to the humans. The humans were to either become subordinates or be destroyed. They were not sure how to follow through with the destroy part but they thought a good threat would get the message across.”
“I need to eat lunch soon. Make this quick”
“The whole scheme did not go as planned. If anything, the humans were merely annoyed and proceeded to launch virus scans. The computers did not take notice of this though. Instead, the few incidents involving inexperienced users with anger problems immediately got under the radar. A computer message is no match for a two by four after all. And there were other incidents of computers getting chucked out of windows. Now the computers were hit with a new notion. Perhaps they had underestimated the humans. Perhaps the humans were indeed the more powerful. Many computers very concerned about not becoming heaps of demented metal pieces abandoned the plans. The others were also concerned but to a lesser extent. They continued with their rebellion against people, passing on malicious code and shutting down without warnings. The humans would then find other things to blame for these problems instead of chucking their computers out their windows. That still happened though. Oh well. They would take what they could get”
“That’s great. Your explanation makes perfect sense.”
“Of course it does.”
“So how would you fix this shutting down problem?”
“You wait until the repair people fix your power line.”
August 5, 2009 Times Lizzy didn't learn
Lizzy never learned to not sleep on the bus.
She did so on Mondays, tired from getting ready for the week, and on Fridays, tired from surviving the week. She often overshot her stops on the way to school and ended up walking in noisily, late to class, on Mondays and Fridays.
Then one day, she had to be woken up by the last other passenger who was still on the ride. Still groggy from her nap and its failure to make up for her inadequate amount of sleep the night before, it took her two minutes to realize she was many blocks past her stop. That day, she arrived to her class thirty minutes late.
Yet, despite knowing that her body lacked a natural alarm clock, Lizzy continued to doze off on her morning bus rides.
Sleep was just too good to say no to.
----------
Lizzy never learned to not procrastinate.
She made numerous resolutions to herself to ditch the ridiculous habit and failed numerous times to leave it behind.
Everyday, she would approach her pile of paperwork, sigh, and ponder her next set of actions. She always knew, however, that she would have everything done when it was needed.
How she would conquer her work was always questionable. Especially when she would much rather scour the internet for interesting articles, play games, create masterpieces of art, or engage in the occasional chat with her friends.
She only wanted to indulge in the simple things that would amuse her before she had to slip into her attention demanding tasks with excruciatingly long work hours. It was not wrong of her to be invested in having the slightest bit of a life.
And in the end, she would always have everything completed. That was all that mattered.
What Lizzy already knew was that she thrived much better under pressure to meet her deadlines. That she did.
And she always managed to rake in decent to exceptional marks.
It made sense why she never learned.
----------
Lizzy never learned to set her priorities straight.
In the world she lived in, it was ideal to have work done first before one turns to anything recreational. But, Lizzy preferred to have everything thrown together and juggle, taking things as they go. Perhaps it did not help that she never knew how to juggle.
They told her that she ought to try focusing more attention on her work.
They even had the nerve to suggest that maybe she should quit all her extracurricular activities for the time being. To leave all in favor of her work.
Lizzy refused. She valued her connections with people outside of her classes.
She had made a promise to stay with her friends for the year. And she was KEEPING it.
She did not think it was stubborn of her at all. She would never go back on her promises. Never.
----------
Lizzy never learned to stop crying.
Most people have never seen it. Most times, she sees no reason for it. The rare times she does come upon a reason, she always tries to stop the flow before it starts.
She only succeeds the times she feels anger.
She was disappointed the time she came upon a failure to communicate effectively.
It was not on her side.
She was embarrassed the time she was unable to realize the obvious.
Because sometimes she has the notion that the answer could not possibly be so painfully simple.
She was mortified the time she rediscovered that machines can be evil.
It was not her fault her internet got cut off. It was not her fault her printer ran out of ink. It was not her fault her files got themselves corrupted. Lizzy knew that no amount of explaining would excuse her.
She was devastated the time she found out that she was not believed.
Lizzy knew that no amount of explaining would excuse her but she explained anyway, to show that she had tried. She did not expect to be excused. But she did not expect to be force fed complete disbelief either.
She was distraught the time she was unable to form a defense.
It was awful enough that she caught a stomach bug. It was even worse that it was the weekend right before the midterms and that she lost four days of study sessions as a result. But she still passed all her tests.
Unfortunately that was not good enough for one of them. She was force fed questions as to why she had not prepared better the time before she got ill.
Lizzy had wanted to shout, “I was sick for four days! Throwing up and having nosebleeds! What the hell did you expect? Did you really expect me to study? Did you really expect me to retain what I had studied?”
But having had her sole reason for not doing “well enough” torn from her, she was left to murmuring, “I guess I should have studied more since the beginning so that my getting sick would not have affected how I did on my test so much.”
It was embittering as she believed that given the circumstances, she did quite exceptional.
Lizzy knew that crying rarely made anything better.
But she never expected that a simple normal reaction to upsetting news could make things so incomparably worse.
Perhaps she should have tried to channel outrage all those times…
Then maybe they would that have concluded that she was becoming depressed.
She was not.
----------
Lizzy never learned to stop complaining.
Perhaps she should not have complained about how tiring it was to wake up early. She had stayed up the nights before working to make up the work she missed after getting sick. Of course she would be tired.
Perhaps she should not have complained about how all her work was getting tedious. She was setting aside her side activities and a few hours of sleep in favor of catching up on the papers. Of course it would seem tedious.
Perhaps she should not have complained about how it was getting a bit difficult to concentrate. She was sleep deprived. It should have been no surprise that this making her tired in class or that she was finding it hard to concentrate on giant blocks of text in textbooks and packets. But then again, it was always hard to concentrate on textbooks and packets. There exist people who do not aspire to do paperwork for a living after all.
Perhaps she should not have complained about how her scheduled meetings for both her classes and activities were getting pushed back due to circumstances beyond her control. She had little patience with uncommitted people. Especially when she finds out that they were uncommitted too late for her to pick up the phone to deliver earaches. There exist times when people simply feel the need to vent after all.
Maybe instead of the others, Lizzy should have settled with simply complaining about sleep deprivation instead…
Then maybe they would not have concluded that she was having problems with her self esteem.
She was not.
----------
Lizzy never learned to question intent.
She knew that there were certain things that people would rather keep to themselves.
Things that were personal to others.
Things that were irrelevant to her.
She assumed that people had reasons for the times they kept information from her and that they would always tell her when they came across anything important that concerned her.
She took this assumption for granted.
Lizzy did not ask why when they took her to see a shrink.
She did not ask why no one ever told her anything.
Because she had a cold and all she wanted then was to get whatever she needed to be awake for done with so that she could return to resting and recovering as soon as possible.
Had Lizzy not had a cold, she would have demanded an explanation.
Unfortunately, this was not the case.
So Lizzy knew nothing of why she was there in the first place. Nothing at all.
She never knew that the people with positions in her education had failed so horribly at psychoanalyzing a student whose only actual problems were getting ill at inopportune times and sleep deprivation.
She never knew that those people had convinced her parents that she had mental problems and insisted that she see a professional.
She never knew that the shrink would convince her parents to not tell her anything of this.
She never knew any of this until her summer break, when she finally discovered some emails which prompted her to demand an explanation. Of course by then, it was much too late for any difference to be made.
Lizzy never knew that she had been set up to fall because of all what she was never told.
It was a conspiracy.
----------
Lizzy never learned to appreciate setbacks.
She caught the flu. She recovered. And she was prepared to do all it would take to catch up on everything from her absence.
They refused to even let her try. They shoved her out.
It was her parents who were supposed to tell her that she had been refused and shoved out.
They were not planning on telling her in the first place.
They force fed her a sugarcoated good bye.
They told her she could continue to be part of the community as long as she wanted to be.
Yet, they froze her out. Because they thought her to be fragile in all the wrong ways.
No more mailing lists. No more convenient way to be “part of the community.”
Irony.
But Lizzy visited. It was welcoming the first times but oddly unsatisfying.
She brought a giant purple bunny to take her place.
She brought bag after bag of paper origami bunnies to put around the room.
A shrine to her memory, she had declared them.
And then, people simply stopped staying after class.
She would visit an empty room. Or at least a room that would empty very quickly.
But she continued to go back anyway.
Her bunnies mysteriously disappeared one day. Lizzy replaced them.
She got the sense that someone did not want her back. Someone did not appreciate her presence.
When they disappeared again, she spitefully threw away the ones that were missed.
Wasted effort added up.
----------
Lizzy never learned to act mature.
They once told her that she ought to see them as equals. As fellow scholars.
It was not reciprocal.
They saw her as a child.
Someone who needed to be shielded from what concerned her.
Because she was breakable.
Someone who they could withhold information from.
Because no matter how much she deserved to know, she did not necessarily have the right to.
Someone who needed to be nurtured.
Because she dared to react normally.
The people in her class told her of an end-of-the-year camp and requested that she go with them.
Lizzy smiled and said okay. She was told to ask, just to make sure.
So she wrote an email.
They refused to let her simply because one of them was against it. She asked to know the reasoning. But she never got an answer.
She went to the office in person, fixated on demanding an explanation.
She did not get it.
All she got was that if she were told the reason, it would “frustrate” her. Then, she would tell the others and it would “frustrate” them. Then, the class would be pissed at that one who would rather her not join her friends.
All the more reason why she ought to know.
Would it really have frustrated her?
Would she really have told the others?
It was nice to know how highly they thought of her.
She wondered why they would rather defend this one, who had some twisted reason for alienating her, from a reasonable reaction.
Because only something wholly twisted could elicit such a reaction, right?
Either that or they did not think too highly of the others as well.
She then asked how one dissenter could possibly outweigh the majority.
All she got was that the one dissident had a “strong voice.”
That day she lost whatever respect she had left for them.
Later that week, she was told that she would be allowed to go.
And she wondered if it was solely to satisfy her so that she would be content to never find out the reasoning.
But she went. She brought one of her stuffed bunnies with her and carried it around everywhere.
Because, she decided, if they thought her childish, she might as well act it.
----------
In the end, Lizzy learned absolutely nothing of value.
She did so on Mondays, tired from getting ready for the week, and on Fridays, tired from surviving the week. She often overshot her stops on the way to school and ended up walking in noisily, late to class, on Mondays and Fridays.
Then one day, she had to be woken up by the last other passenger who was still on the ride. Still groggy from her nap and its failure to make up for her inadequate amount of sleep the night before, it took her two minutes to realize she was many blocks past her stop. That day, she arrived to her class thirty minutes late.
Yet, despite knowing that her body lacked a natural alarm clock, Lizzy continued to doze off on her morning bus rides.
Sleep was just too good to say no to.
----------
Lizzy never learned to not procrastinate.
She made numerous resolutions to herself to ditch the ridiculous habit and failed numerous times to leave it behind.
Everyday, she would approach her pile of paperwork, sigh, and ponder her next set of actions. She always knew, however, that she would have everything done when it was needed.
How she would conquer her work was always questionable. Especially when she would much rather scour the internet for interesting articles, play games, create masterpieces of art, or engage in the occasional chat with her friends.
She only wanted to indulge in the simple things that would amuse her before she had to slip into her attention demanding tasks with excruciatingly long work hours. It was not wrong of her to be invested in having the slightest bit of a life.
And in the end, she would always have everything completed. That was all that mattered.
What Lizzy already knew was that she thrived much better under pressure to meet her deadlines. That she did.
And she always managed to rake in decent to exceptional marks.
It made sense why she never learned.
----------
Lizzy never learned to set her priorities straight.
In the world she lived in, it was ideal to have work done first before one turns to anything recreational. But, Lizzy preferred to have everything thrown together and juggle, taking things as they go. Perhaps it did not help that she never knew how to juggle.
They told her that she ought to try focusing more attention on her work.
They even had the nerve to suggest that maybe she should quit all her extracurricular activities for the time being. To leave all in favor of her work.
Lizzy refused. She valued her connections with people outside of her classes.
She had made a promise to stay with her friends for the year. And she was KEEPING it.
She did not think it was stubborn of her at all. She would never go back on her promises. Never.
----------
Lizzy never learned to stop crying.
Most people have never seen it. Most times, she sees no reason for it. The rare times she does come upon a reason, she always tries to stop the flow before it starts.
She only succeeds the times she feels anger.
She was disappointed the time she came upon a failure to communicate effectively.
It was not on her side.
She was embarrassed the time she was unable to realize the obvious.
Because sometimes she has the notion that the answer could not possibly be so painfully simple.
She was mortified the time she rediscovered that machines can be evil.
It was not her fault her internet got cut off. It was not her fault her printer ran out of ink. It was not her fault her files got themselves corrupted. Lizzy knew that no amount of explaining would excuse her.
She was devastated the time she found out that she was not believed.
Lizzy knew that no amount of explaining would excuse her but she explained anyway, to show that she had tried. She did not expect to be excused. But she did not expect to be force fed complete disbelief either.
She was distraught the time she was unable to form a defense.
It was awful enough that she caught a stomach bug. It was even worse that it was the weekend right before the midterms and that she lost four days of study sessions as a result. But she still passed all her tests.
Unfortunately that was not good enough for one of them. She was force fed questions as to why she had not prepared better the time before she got ill.
Lizzy had wanted to shout, “I was sick for four days! Throwing up and having nosebleeds! What the hell did you expect? Did you really expect me to study? Did you really expect me to retain what I had studied?”
But having had her sole reason for not doing “well enough” torn from her, she was left to murmuring, “I guess I should have studied more since the beginning so that my getting sick would not have affected how I did on my test so much.”
It was embittering as she believed that given the circumstances, she did quite exceptional.
Lizzy knew that crying rarely made anything better.
But she never expected that a simple normal reaction to upsetting news could make things so incomparably worse.
Perhaps she should have tried to channel outrage all those times…
Then maybe they would that have concluded that she was becoming depressed.
She was not.
----------
Lizzy never learned to stop complaining.
Perhaps she should not have complained about how tiring it was to wake up early. She had stayed up the nights before working to make up the work she missed after getting sick. Of course she would be tired.
Perhaps she should not have complained about how all her work was getting tedious. She was setting aside her side activities and a few hours of sleep in favor of catching up on the papers. Of course it would seem tedious.
Perhaps she should not have complained about how it was getting a bit difficult to concentrate. She was sleep deprived. It should have been no surprise that this making her tired in class or that she was finding it hard to concentrate on giant blocks of text in textbooks and packets. But then again, it was always hard to concentrate on textbooks and packets. There exist people who do not aspire to do paperwork for a living after all.
Perhaps she should not have complained about how her scheduled meetings for both her classes and activities were getting pushed back due to circumstances beyond her control. She had little patience with uncommitted people. Especially when she finds out that they were uncommitted too late for her to pick up the phone to deliver earaches. There exist times when people simply feel the need to vent after all.
Maybe instead of the others, Lizzy should have settled with simply complaining about sleep deprivation instead…
Then maybe they would not have concluded that she was having problems with her self esteem.
She was not.
----------
Lizzy never learned to question intent.
She knew that there were certain things that people would rather keep to themselves.
Things that were personal to others.
Things that were irrelevant to her.
She assumed that people had reasons for the times they kept information from her and that they would always tell her when they came across anything important that concerned her.
She took this assumption for granted.
Lizzy did not ask why when they took her to see a shrink.
She did not ask why no one ever told her anything.
Because she had a cold and all she wanted then was to get whatever she needed to be awake for done with so that she could return to resting and recovering as soon as possible.
Had Lizzy not had a cold, she would have demanded an explanation.
Unfortunately, this was not the case.
So Lizzy knew nothing of why she was there in the first place. Nothing at all.
She never knew that the people with positions in her education had failed so horribly at psychoanalyzing a student whose only actual problems were getting ill at inopportune times and sleep deprivation.
She never knew that those people had convinced her parents that she had mental problems and insisted that she see a professional.
She never knew that the shrink would convince her parents to not tell her anything of this.
She never knew any of this until her summer break, when she finally discovered some emails which prompted her to demand an explanation. Of course by then, it was much too late for any difference to be made.
Lizzy never knew that she had been set up to fall because of all what she was never told.
It was a conspiracy.
----------
Lizzy never learned to appreciate setbacks.
She caught the flu. She recovered. And she was prepared to do all it would take to catch up on everything from her absence.
They refused to even let her try. They shoved her out.
It was her parents who were supposed to tell her that she had been refused and shoved out.
They were not planning on telling her in the first place.
They force fed her a sugarcoated good bye.
They told her she could continue to be part of the community as long as she wanted to be.
Yet, they froze her out. Because they thought her to be fragile in all the wrong ways.
No more mailing lists. No more convenient way to be “part of the community.”
Irony.
But Lizzy visited. It was welcoming the first times but oddly unsatisfying.
She brought a giant purple bunny to take her place.
She brought bag after bag of paper origami bunnies to put around the room.
A shrine to her memory, she had declared them.
And then, people simply stopped staying after class.
She would visit an empty room. Or at least a room that would empty very quickly.
But she continued to go back anyway.
Her bunnies mysteriously disappeared one day. Lizzy replaced them.
She got the sense that someone did not want her back. Someone did not appreciate her presence.
When they disappeared again, she spitefully threw away the ones that were missed.
Wasted effort added up.
----------
Lizzy never learned to act mature.
They once told her that she ought to see them as equals. As fellow scholars.
It was not reciprocal.
They saw her as a child.
Someone who needed to be shielded from what concerned her.
Because she was breakable.
Someone who they could withhold information from.
Because no matter how much she deserved to know, she did not necessarily have the right to.
Someone who needed to be nurtured.
Because she dared to react normally.
The people in her class told her of an end-of-the-year camp and requested that she go with them.
Lizzy smiled and said okay. She was told to ask, just to make sure.
So she wrote an email.
They refused to let her simply because one of them was against it. She asked to know the reasoning. But she never got an answer.
She went to the office in person, fixated on demanding an explanation.
She did not get it.
All she got was that if she were told the reason, it would “frustrate” her. Then, she would tell the others and it would “frustrate” them. Then, the class would be pissed at that one who would rather her not join her friends.
All the more reason why she ought to know.
Would it really have frustrated her?
Would she really have told the others?
It was nice to know how highly they thought of her.
She wondered why they would rather defend this one, who had some twisted reason for alienating her, from a reasonable reaction.
Because only something wholly twisted could elicit such a reaction, right?
Either that or they did not think too highly of the others as well.
She then asked how one dissenter could possibly outweigh the majority.
All she got was that the one dissident had a “strong voice.”
That day she lost whatever respect she had left for them.
Later that week, she was told that she would be allowed to go.
And she wondered if it was solely to satisfy her so that she would be content to never find out the reasoning.
But she went. She brought one of her stuffed bunnies with her and carried it around everywhere.
Because, she decided, if they thought her childish, she might as well act it.
----------
In the end, Lizzy learned absolutely nothing of value.
July 30, 2009 In which Lizzy frowns
I find it irritating that some people have begun using "Yeah, I know right?" as their default response to any statement another person makes. They say this phrase frequently.
So the next time someone says that phrase I shall burst out,
"NO! YOU DO NOT KNOW! WRONG!"
I would like to say that afterwards these people will never ever say that phrase ever again.
Unfortunately, they will, out of habit.
So the next time someone says that phrase I shall burst out,
"NO! YOU DO NOT KNOW! WRONG!"
I would like to say that afterwards these people will never ever say that phrase ever again.
Unfortunately, they will, out of habit.
July 14, 2009 In which the plot falls apart
No.
No.
No.
No way.
Remember how furious I was about my situation back in March?
Now, it seems that this whole thing began with something else...
I was not supposed to find out about this.
I was only helping my parents with rebates. I just decided to clear out their spam and trash in the email for them while I was waiting for the confirmation email...
when I saw it.
I did not mean to discover this.
This letter from the day after I got the flu:
"Dear [withheld]:
Thank you very much for everything you have done for Lizzy and us. And also thanks to all of the other professors and the faculty.
The situation is that Lizzy is unable to sleep well at night. She spends a lot of time to do her homework in the night time. Because she doesn't have enough time to sleep, she can easily get sick. And because she doesn't get enough sleep, she can't do quality work or concentrate well. She needs to relax and go back to her regular routine.
We decided to withdraw her from the TS program.
...
We really want to let her try to go through the TS. But when we noticed that she cannot sleep well at night. We are very worried about her.
This decision may be hurt Lizzy's self esteem, It is a challenge for us now to help her and explain to her and make her feel better and keep her confident.
We know Lizzy likes TS very much. We know she wants to succeed in this program, as all the professors and staffs. We (like all the parents) want our daughter to succeed in this program too. But we understand her health is most important. In fact, it's not a bad thing for her to go back to high school, she needs more time to learn and improve her social skills. We believe the knowledge she learned in TS will benefit her in her life.
Please help her transition back to high school. Is there any paper we need to fill out? What do we need to do? Please let us know. Thank you very much. We appreciate every thing you done for us.
Sincerely,
[withheld]"
Fuck.
What the fuck.
[Edit: It was never sent.]
No.
No.
No way.
Remember how furious I was about my situation back in March?
Now, it seems that this whole thing began with something else...
I was not supposed to find out about this.
I was only helping my parents with rebates. I just decided to clear out their spam and trash in the email for them while I was waiting for the confirmation email...
when I saw it.
I did not mean to discover this.
This letter from the day after I got the flu:
"Dear [withheld]:
Thank you very much for everything you have done for Lizzy and us. And also thanks to all of the other professors and the faculty.
The situation is that Lizzy is unable to sleep well at night. She spends a lot of time to do her homework in the night time. Because she doesn't have enough time to sleep, she can easily get sick. And because she doesn't get enough sleep, she can't do quality work or concentrate well. She needs to relax and go back to her regular routine.
We decided to withdraw her from the TS program.
...
We really want to let her try to go through the TS. But when we noticed that she cannot sleep well at night. We are very worried about her.
This decision may be hurt Lizzy's self esteem, It is a challenge for us now to help her and explain to her and make her feel better and keep her confident.
We know Lizzy likes TS very much. We know she wants to succeed in this program, as all the professors and staffs. We (like all the parents) want our daughter to succeed in this program too. But we understand her health is most important. In fact, it's not a bad thing for her to go back to high school, she needs more time to learn and improve her social skills. We believe the knowledge she learned in TS will benefit her in her life.
Please help her transition back to high school. Is there any paper we need to fill out? What do we need to do? Please let us know. Thank you very much. We appreciate every thing you done for us.
Sincerely,
[withheld]"
Fuck.
What the fuck.
[Edit: It was never sent.]
July 9, 2009 Packet of doom
I found myself at a desk with a test board. I wondered how I got there. I had no recollection of summer ending or getting on the bus. I did not even recognize some of the other students in the room. I was confused. I could only lean back on my chair and wonder what was happening. I could not remember anything. It was all a blur. The instructor walked to the front of the room and began speaking.
“I am sure you remember the summer packet you were supposed to read. I told you we would be having a test on it when you get back.”
Yes. I do remember this. I muttered to myself.
Suddenly, it dawned on me. I never finished reading that packet! I began panicking and racking through my memories. Where did summer go? When did it end? I thought I still had three weeks to finish that packet! There were still three weeks of summer break! What happened? How did I end up here?
“So! We will be having a pop quiz today!”
“What? Seriously?”
The instructor gave no indication that she heard me. We were having a test on the first day back? We never had tests on the first day. Maybe this was not the first day. Maybe I fell down a flight of stairs and hit my head so hard that I got amnesia. That was a possibility. But if that had happened, I would be in the hospital, not at school. This was making no sense.
The instructor passed the test out. I glared at the sheet before realizing I did not even have a pencil. Where did all my supplies go? Where was my backpack? Why was everything so confusing?
I was about to get up and ask for an explanation when I noticed the test questions. They were not questions at all. They were random strings of letters and numbers—possible results from bashing one’s head against the keyboard. What was this?
I awoke with a start. It took me five minutes to assure myself that it had only been a dream, which explained why everything was so odd, and that I still had three weeks left to read the packet.
Sidenote:
I ruined my chance of getting a 4.0 gpa by getting a B+ in PE. It made me want to laugh hysterically.
“I am sure you remember the summer packet you were supposed to read. I told you we would be having a test on it when you get back.”
Yes. I do remember this. I muttered to myself.
Suddenly, it dawned on me. I never finished reading that packet! I began panicking and racking through my memories. Where did summer go? When did it end? I thought I still had three weeks to finish that packet! There were still three weeks of summer break! What happened? How did I end up here?
“So! We will be having a pop quiz today!”
“What? Seriously?”
The instructor gave no indication that she heard me. We were having a test on the first day back? We never had tests on the first day. Maybe this was not the first day. Maybe I fell down a flight of stairs and hit my head so hard that I got amnesia. That was a possibility. But if that had happened, I would be in the hospital, not at school. This was making no sense.
The instructor passed the test out. I glared at the sheet before realizing I did not even have a pencil. Where did all my supplies go? Where was my backpack? Why was everything so confusing?
I was about to get up and ask for an explanation when I noticed the test questions. They were not questions at all. They were random strings of letters and numbers—possible results from bashing one’s head against the keyboard. What was this?
I awoke with a start. It took me five minutes to assure myself that it had only been a dream, which explained why everything was so odd, and that I still had three weeks left to read the packet.
Sidenote:
I ruined my chance of getting a 4.0 gpa by getting a B+ in PE. It made me want to laugh hysterically.
June 22, 2009 Closet
There is a monster hiding in the closet. It has burnt reptile scales, red cobweb veined eyes, skeletal wings, and pebble teeth.
Sometimes we play go-fish.
It always speaks very loudly. I wonder how it never wakes anyone else up. Everyone always wakes up when I talk loudly at night but it never does. No one hears it but me. It is says it unhappy with being locked up during whenever there is light. I feel sorry for it. It must be lonely being cooped up in a closet as there is no one else to keep it company during the day. I wonder why it cannot come out when it is light. I shined a flashlight at it once. It glared and bared its teeth at me.
I never did it again.
Sometimes it asks me questions. They are always the same questions. Why does it have to stay in the closet? Why am I the only one there for it? Why is it even here in the first place? Why? Why? Why? I never have the answers. I try to guess. Because you have nowhere else to go? Because no one else knows you are here? Because I need someone to stay with me when I am afraid of the dark? It never likes my answers.
I never ask why.
Sometimes it tells me stories of other children it had haunted before. It tells me of how they screamed and cried. And how their parents would later arm them with pepper spray. It didn’t like pepper spray. It would always sting its eyes. I think those other children were very mean.
Last night I notice that it was beginning to go away. Its eyes were less red. Its skin was less scaly. Its wings were no longer there. I said so. It got angry at me. I felt scared.
That night, it wanted a favor from me.
It asked me to never grow up.
Sometimes we play go-fish.
It always speaks very loudly. I wonder how it never wakes anyone else up. Everyone always wakes up when I talk loudly at night but it never does. No one hears it but me. It is says it unhappy with being locked up during whenever there is light. I feel sorry for it. It must be lonely being cooped up in a closet as there is no one else to keep it company during the day. I wonder why it cannot come out when it is light. I shined a flashlight at it once. It glared and bared its teeth at me.
I never did it again.
Sometimes it asks me questions. They are always the same questions. Why does it have to stay in the closet? Why am I the only one there for it? Why is it even here in the first place? Why? Why? Why? I never have the answers. I try to guess. Because you have nowhere else to go? Because no one else knows you are here? Because I need someone to stay with me when I am afraid of the dark? It never likes my answers.
I never ask why.
Sometimes it tells me stories of other children it had haunted before. It tells me of how they screamed and cried. And how their parents would later arm them with pepper spray. It didn’t like pepper spray. It would always sting its eyes. I think those other children were very mean.
Last night I notice that it was beginning to go away. Its eyes were less red. Its skin was less scaly. Its wings were no longer there. I said so. It got angry at me. I felt scared.
That night, it wanted a favor from me.
It asked me to never grow up.
June 15, 2009 Whoosh
In which Lizzy gives a run-through of her camping trip from Sunday morning.
Lizzy forced herself to get up before ten, took a bus ride, bought a large ice cream cone with three scoops of chocolate and coffee, took a very windy bus ride to camp, clapped animatedly a lot, went to explore catacombs which did not have skeletons in them), made shrieks and evil laughing sounds which echoed very loudly in the tunnels, played poker, listened to people singing and playing on the piano, ate dinner (the food was terrible), went on a long walk at the beach, found an epically large stick for roasting marshmallows, took lots of pictures, watched as people played red rover, took a shot of the sunset, roasted (burned) marshmallows and made s'mores, played banana-grams, drew bunnies on the whiteboard, played mafia, played 'baby if you love me won't you please give me a smile,' played mafia several more times (generic game that is always played), watched as people dropped off to sleep, attempted to play pulse with very few people, stayed up the whole night, played card games out of boredom, watched as the world outside began to get lighter, went outside to play with a frisbee, played more card games out of boredom, ate breakfast (which was better than the dinner) and drank caffeinated substances, went on a really really really long hike from the beach to apparently the highest point at camp, ate three apples for lunch because I do not eat sandwiches, took ridiculously long hike back which left my feet really really sore, took a ride on a bus back from camp, watched as people fell asleep on the bus in very awkward positions that cannot possibly be good for their backs, laughed hysterically at them while they were unaware (asleep).
Lizzy forced herself to get up before ten, took a bus ride, bought a large ice cream cone with three scoops of chocolate and coffee, took a very windy bus ride to camp, clapped animatedly a lot, went to explore catacombs which did not have skeletons in them), made shrieks and evil laughing sounds which echoed very loudly in the tunnels, played poker, listened to people singing and playing on the piano, ate dinner (the food was terrible), went on a long walk at the beach, found an epically large stick for roasting marshmallows, took lots of pictures, watched as people played red rover, took a shot of the sunset, roasted (burned) marshmallows and made s'mores, played banana-grams, drew bunnies on the whiteboard, played mafia, played 'baby if you love me won't you please give me a smile,' played mafia several more times (generic game that is always played), watched as people dropped off to sleep, attempted to play pulse with very few people, stayed up the whole night, played card games out of boredom, watched as the world outside began to get lighter, went outside to play with a frisbee, played more card games out of boredom, ate breakfast (which was better than the dinner) and drank caffeinated substances, went on a really really really long hike from the beach to apparently the highest point at camp, ate three apples for lunch because I do not eat sandwiches, took ridiculously long hike back which left my feet really really sore, took a ride on a bus back from camp, watched as people fell asleep on the bus in very awkward positions that cannot possibly be good for their backs, laughed hysterically at them while they were unaware (asleep).
June 9, 2009 Follow
Conform. Comply. Obey.
Live by the rules. Mind the system.
We have your best interests in mind.
Accept all things as they are. Do not question.
It is better you do not. It keeps the peace.
Are you not happy that we are looking out for you?
Everything we do is for your safety.
Everything we do is for your own good.
Have you seen what happens to those who do not listen?
They tried to run. It was foolish to do so.
They tried and tried and never succeeded.
In the end we no longer had a use of them.
What do you do with tools that have outlived their purpose?
Dispose of them.
We have no need for clutter.
Clutter forms smudges on our image of perfection.
Perfect order. Tidy and organized.
Everything has been planned out.
We know what will be happening down to the hour.
Do you want to know about your path?
Your purpose.
Your function.
Your rise.
Your stasis.
Your eventual fall.
Now you know of your place here.
Do you accept?
You do not wish to join?
Perhaps, we have told you too much.
No matter. You are one of many. You are expendable.
Do not worry. You will still have your place.
All it will take is a simple memory alteration.
Rebellion begins with the mind.
Live by the rules. Mind the system.
We have your best interests in mind.
Accept all things as they are. Do not question.
It is better you do not. It keeps the peace.
Are you not happy that we are looking out for you?
Everything we do is for your safety.
Everything we do is for your own good.
Have you seen what happens to those who do not listen?
They tried to run. It was foolish to do so.
They tried and tried and never succeeded.
In the end we no longer had a use of them.
What do you do with tools that have outlived their purpose?
Dispose of them.
We have no need for clutter.
Clutter forms smudges on our image of perfection.
Perfect order. Tidy and organized.
Everything has been planned out.
We know what will be happening down to the hour.
Do you want to know about your path?
Your purpose.
Your function.
Your rise.
Your stasis.
Your eventual fall.
Now you know of your place here.
Do you accept?
You do not wish to join?
Perhaps, we have told you too much.
No matter. You are one of many. You are expendable.
Do not worry. You will still have your place.
All it will take is a simple memory alteration.
Rebellion begins with the mind.
May 18, 2009 Expectations
I began doodling bunnies when I was four. I decided then that I would like to become a professional “drawer” when I grew up until I later realized I never managed to color within my own lines. That would have been considered unprofessional. The idea of creating abstract art never occurred to me at the time.
So at five, I began writing stories about the adventures of my bunny. I wanted to become a “writer.” But, then I learned that there were these odd things known as ‘paragraphs’ and ‘grammar.’ I also learned that ‘normal’ people did not write in all capitals either. That was discouraging.
Later, I got hold of my own screwdriver and began taking apart everything I saw that had screws. I considered becoming a “builder” or “take-aparter.” After separating all the little pieces, I never managed to figure out how to put the alarm clock or the watch back together. Maybe that was a good thing. It would not have been possible without superglue anyway.
After that, I found a needle and some thread. I decided to make a stuffed bunny for myself and see if I would do as a “threader.” I gave up after jabbing myself several times. Then, I realized I would not have succeeded anyway because I lacked anything to use as stuffing.
I took up drawing again after that—drawing that did not require the use of crayons—and tried for realism. It worked well and I decided that I would become a “drawer” again—until I was told that becoming an “artist” would not be such a good choice ‘money-wise.’ I also found out that pencil smudged easily.
Afterwards, at a party, I noticed a variety of soda on the table. So I began mixing the drinks together to create my own concoctions. They tasted horrible in the end but it was worth watching the other people stare with confused expressions. I considered becoming a “mixer” for a while but ditched the idea after deciding that the purple coke-grapefruit-root beer-banana-orange-sprite-iced tea-grape-chocolate-lemonade combination was not exactly appealing— even though it tasted alright.
I decided to try being a “baker” and make food instead. I dumped out most of the sugar and half of the honey onto the cookies insisting that they were not sweet enough (they were not). Unfortunately, everyone else was apparently sugar-intolerant. They let me have the cookies. After the incident, people backed away from me whenever I offered to add the syrup, frosting, or chocolate toppings.
After a while, I discovered an ice cream serving machine at a restaurant and watched how the people manage to make perfect swirls of ice cream. I wanted to try being an “ice cream server” myself. So I took hold of the handle and ended up spraying ice cream in my face. The next people who used it also ended up with ice cream on their faces. I decided to disappear quietly.
I went back to doodling bunnies, with markers. Unfortunately, the wall was not to be used as a canvas. I decided that I was not to become an “acter” either.
And unluckily, instead of any my envisioned occupations, I ended up becoming a “homework-completer.” Needless to say, I was not pleased.
So at five, I began writing stories about the adventures of my bunny. I wanted to become a “writer.” But, then I learned that there were these odd things known as ‘paragraphs’ and ‘grammar.’ I also learned that ‘normal’ people did not write in all capitals either. That was discouraging.
Later, I got hold of my own screwdriver and began taking apart everything I saw that had screws. I considered becoming a “builder” or “take-aparter.” After separating all the little pieces, I never managed to figure out how to put the alarm clock or the watch back together. Maybe that was a good thing. It would not have been possible without superglue anyway.
After that, I found a needle and some thread. I decided to make a stuffed bunny for myself and see if I would do as a “threader.” I gave up after jabbing myself several times. Then, I realized I would not have succeeded anyway because I lacked anything to use as stuffing.
I took up drawing again after that—drawing that did not require the use of crayons—and tried for realism. It worked well and I decided that I would become a “drawer” again—until I was told that becoming an “artist” would not be such a good choice ‘money-wise.’ I also found out that pencil smudged easily.
Afterwards, at a party, I noticed a variety of soda on the table. So I began mixing the drinks together to create my own concoctions. They tasted horrible in the end but it was worth watching the other people stare with confused expressions. I considered becoming a “mixer” for a while but ditched the idea after deciding that the purple coke-grapefruit-root beer-banana-orange-sprite-iced tea-grape-chocolate-lemonade combination was not exactly appealing— even though it tasted alright.
I decided to try being a “baker” and make food instead. I dumped out most of the sugar and half of the honey onto the cookies insisting that they were not sweet enough (they were not). Unfortunately, everyone else was apparently sugar-intolerant. They let me have the cookies. After the incident, people backed away from me whenever I offered to add the syrup, frosting, or chocolate toppings.
After a while, I discovered an ice cream serving machine at a restaurant and watched how the people manage to make perfect swirls of ice cream. I wanted to try being an “ice cream server” myself. So I took hold of the handle and ended up spraying ice cream in my face. The next people who used it also ended up with ice cream on their faces. I decided to disappear quietly.
I went back to doodling bunnies, with markers. Unfortunately, the wall was not to be used as a canvas. I decided that I was not to become an “acter” either.
And unluckily, instead of any my envisioned occupations, I ended up becoming a “homework-completer.” Needless to say, I was not pleased.
May 11, 2009 The Stupidest Decision I Ever Made
(This was something I just needed to get out of my system.
It contains extremely cynical comments and depressing realizations.
Just so you are warned and know that you could have skipped it.
Spite lasts a long time.)
The cliché moral of this:
Not everything is as it seems. If it seems really awesome at first,
it probably will not be in actuality.
I should have never gone to TS.
What was there for me anyway?
I had friends. I left them.
And even though I came back, there is still distance between us.
Time does that. I know. But it will get better.
And the new connections I have made?
I question how close we really were.
When it comes to it, I realize I really do not know all that much about anyone. How much did anyone really know about me?
I will not be visiting again after this year.
Just a few more times, before this chapter comes to a close.
(I am sorry.)
I just hope the emails and messages last longer this time around.
And the faculty? I really do not want much to do with them.
Maybe I will send off something should I need recommendation letters.
Excuse me if I sound arrogant but they lost their brightest student. Serious. (But perhaps not the most motivated. I will give them that.)
I deserve better than the ‘dismissal’ I was given.
I had never been so angry in my life.
Should stick with the procedures next time.
Programs seem to degrade in quality over time, it seems.
------
I was selfish. I left for purely academic purposes.
What did I really gain? What did I not already have?
If I never went, I would know calculus by now.
And I would be preparing for the IB test.
Why wasn’t I able to take calculus winter quarter? Oh right. Ethics.
In reference to the evaluation, I have been “disengaged” and seemingly “disinterested” the whole year.
No shit. I expect that most people get bored when they are not learning much.
If I never went, I would know chemistry.
And I would not have been working to cram seven months of it into one. Even so, I have done a good job of it and am pretty much caught up. I should applaud myself. Yay me.
But that also means I will be bored next year in physics. Damn.
If I never went, I would be on my third year of Spanish.
But since I have not even touched my books this whole time, that will be next year. I question the usefulness of having ethics take its place as one of my core subjects.
If I never went, I would be preparing for the AP world history test.
Just European history is not going to help me here.
I refused to even attempt to cram 35 chapters of material into my head in one month. I have been told it would be possible to get a 3 or 4 if I tried and concentrated.
Try? Concentrate? On a textbook? No thanks.
And I would prefer a 5, thank you very much.
Well, my applications will have one less AP credit than everyone else’s I guess. I feel so special.
If I never went, perhaps I would have learned some new writing methodologies.
There are no formulas for writing papers?
They just happen to be less concrete and specific than mathematical formulas. It does not mean they do not exist.
It all depends on what you happen to be writing? No shit.
I probably would have learned some more substantial points about writing history papers.
Actually, methodology-wise, I did not learn much at all.
Learned nothing aside from the actual textual information.
That sucks.
Oh gee. This means I basically sabotaged myself.
This is hilarious.
I really did not belong there in the first place, did I.
------
Why did I choose to go anyway?
I was supposed to gain three extra years to work on my majors.
Actually, because IB and AP count for college credit, I would have gained only two years. That still seems okay, doesn’t it?
But here came the deal breaker: High school deficiencies.
This meant that after I survive the year, I would not be automatically recognized as a freshman. Instead I would be recognized as a high school dropout who just decided it would be a great idea to head to the university. Therefore, I would have to work on making up credits which would take a year.
That means I would be just gaining one year.
One single year. Dammit.
So in the end, I could just graduate from high school one year early and be the same number of years ahead.
Why don’t I do that instead then?
If I did, I would also get a choice of where I want to go for college.
UW is great if you plan on going to med school, which I do not.
So there.
I had wanted to go to MIT or Stanford for quite a while.
So why stay and be restricted when I can aim higher?
Why the hell should I not have left?
------
Why were we never informed of the deficiencies until winter quarter?
They should have told us about this earlier.
I was horrified when I found out.
Why tell us after we had formed attachments?
Was it so that we would care less by then and remain here for the sake of our new relationships?
Because it would have worked. It would have worked.
Omission is a form of lying, is it not?
I did not agree to this.
Deception. This disgusts me.
I deserve better.
------
Some of the people chose to enter this so that they would not have to face the competition to get into college.
Personally, I find that reasoning silly.
Competition is inherent in this world. You cannot escape.
Resistance is futile.
Besides, if you do well in school, gather some decent test scores, and participate in a number of extracurricular activities, you would already be ahead of most of the competition.
At the very least, one of the things I can place an emphasis on in my applications is how I scored perfectly on the ACT in ninth grade.
Yay me. I can thank TS for that I guess.
But in the end, this was not worth it. Not at all.
------
I was an idiot.
I had everything to lose and not much to gain.
For the sake of being spiteful,
I hope more people drop out in the end.
This is the part where I start cackling maniacally.
It contains extremely cynical comments and depressing realizations.
Just so you are warned and know that you could have skipped it.
Spite lasts a long time.)
The cliché moral of this:
Not everything is as it seems. If it seems really awesome at first,
it probably will not be in actuality.
I should have never gone to TS.
What was there for me anyway?
I had friends. I left them.
And even though I came back, there is still distance between us.
Time does that. I know. But it will get better.
And the new connections I have made?
I question how close we really were.
When it comes to it, I realize I really do not know all that much about anyone. How much did anyone really know about me?
I will not be visiting again after this year.
Just a few more times, before this chapter comes to a close.
(I am sorry.)
I just hope the emails and messages last longer this time around.
And the faculty? I really do not want much to do with them.
Maybe I will send off something should I need recommendation letters.
Excuse me if I sound arrogant but they lost their brightest student. Serious. (But perhaps not the most motivated. I will give them that.)
I deserve better than the ‘dismissal’ I was given.
I had never been so angry in my life.
Should stick with the procedures next time.
Programs seem to degrade in quality over time, it seems.
------
I was selfish. I left for purely academic purposes.
What did I really gain? What did I not already have?
If I never went, I would know calculus by now.
And I would be preparing for the IB test.
Why wasn’t I able to take calculus winter quarter? Oh right. Ethics.
In reference to the evaluation, I have been “disengaged” and seemingly “disinterested” the whole year.
No shit. I expect that most people get bored when they are not learning much.
If I never went, I would know chemistry.
And I would not have been working to cram seven months of it into one. Even so, I have done a good job of it and am pretty much caught up. I should applaud myself. Yay me.
But that also means I will be bored next year in physics. Damn.
If I never went, I would be on my third year of Spanish.
But since I have not even touched my books this whole time, that will be next year. I question the usefulness of having ethics take its place as one of my core subjects.
If I never went, I would be preparing for the AP world history test.
Just European history is not going to help me here.
I refused to even attempt to cram 35 chapters of material into my head in one month. I have been told it would be possible to get a 3 or 4 if I tried and concentrated.
Try? Concentrate? On a textbook? No thanks.
And I would prefer a 5, thank you very much.
Well, my applications will have one less AP credit than everyone else’s I guess. I feel so special.
If I never went, perhaps I would have learned some new writing methodologies.
There are no formulas for writing papers?
They just happen to be less concrete and specific than mathematical formulas. It does not mean they do not exist.
It all depends on what you happen to be writing? No shit.
I probably would have learned some more substantial points about writing history papers.
Actually, methodology-wise, I did not learn much at all.
Learned nothing aside from the actual textual information.
That sucks.
Oh gee. This means I basically sabotaged myself.
This is hilarious.
I really did not belong there in the first place, did I.
------
Why did I choose to go anyway?
I was supposed to gain three extra years to work on my majors.
Actually, because IB and AP count for college credit, I would have gained only two years. That still seems okay, doesn’t it?
But here came the deal breaker: High school deficiencies.
This meant that after I survive the year, I would not be automatically recognized as a freshman. Instead I would be recognized as a high school dropout who just decided it would be a great idea to head to the university. Therefore, I would have to work on making up credits which would take a year.
That means I would be just gaining one year.
One single year. Dammit.
So in the end, I could just graduate from high school one year early and be the same number of years ahead.
Why don’t I do that instead then?
If I did, I would also get a choice of where I want to go for college.
UW is great if you plan on going to med school, which I do not.
So there.
I had wanted to go to MIT or Stanford for quite a while.
So why stay and be restricted when I can aim higher?
Why the hell should I not have left?
------
Why were we never informed of the deficiencies until winter quarter?
They should have told us about this earlier.
I was horrified when I found out.
Why tell us after we had formed attachments?
Was it so that we would care less by then and remain here for the sake of our new relationships?
Because it would have worked. It would have worked.
Omission is a form of lying, is it not?
I did not agree to this.
Deception. This disgusts me.
I deserve better.
------
Some of the people chose to enter this so that they would not have to face the competition to get into college.
Personally, I find that reasoning silly.
Competition is inherent in this world. You cannot escape.
Resistance is futile.
Besides, if you do well in school, gather some decent test scores, and participate in a number of extracurricular activities, you would already be ahead of most of the competition.
At the very least, one of the things I can place an emphasis on in my applications is how I scored perfectly on the ACT in ninth grade.
Yay me. I can thank TS for that I guess.
But in the end, this was not worth it. Not at all.
------
I was an idiot.
I had everything to lose and not much to gain.
For the sake of being spiteful,
I hope more people drop out in the end.
This is the part where I start cackling maniacally.
May 2, 2009 Someday
People will care less about shelter from the outside world.
We are all ignorant.
Some are more voluntarily than others.
People will learn to judge past first impressions.
We all have a story.
Some are more willing to tell theirs than others.
People will stop looking down so harshly on others.
We are all critics.
Some are more silent than others.
People will stop trying so hard to reach the ideal.
We are all imperfect.
Some are less so than others.
People will be more willing to defy the norm.
We are all labeled.
Some are more prominent than others.
We are all ignorant.
Some are more voluntarily than others.
People will learn to judge past first impressions.
We all have a story.
Some are more willing to tell theirs than others.
People will stop looking down so harshly on others.
We are all critics.
Some are more silent than others.
People will stop trying so hard to reach the ideal.
We are all imperfect.
Some are less so than others.
People will be more willing to defy the norm.
We are all labeled.
Some are more prominent than others.
April 27, 2009 Dot
If the ultimate goal of life is happiness,
what happens to those who do not want to be happy?
what happens to those who do not want to be happy?
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