She sat atop the stars and watched as the people below continued
with the ebb and flow of life. And as the days went by she yearned for nothing
more than to fall from her place among the stars and live like them. Like the
people below her.
These humans...these humans were fascinating.
How easily they could feel such terrifying multitudes of anger, sadness, happiness and love were beyond her. She yearned for these feelings- these emotions-
which the people taught her; as she watched them scream and shout words to
describe what they felt in their hearts and knew in their minds, to cut and
tear at each other's flesh and ear away at their cracking facades.
Some days she thought she could feel these
emotions too.
I'm angry,she'd say.I'm sad,she'd scream.I'm happy,she'd cry. And then her smile would drop. Her eyes would trail away from the reflective surface of the never
ending abyss that surrounded her and she’d stare at the earth below her.
She couldn’t feel.
No matter how hard she tried
…she couldn’t feel.
...to be continued
Just a bit of writing to shake off the boredom. song of the moment: Stars The XX
Life’s about the little things. Only it’s not. It never was.
Right now everything is leading up to these moments; the grand finale, some
might say. All these little things building up, fusing together, boiling
amongst each other in this giant cauldron, this abyss, this bottomless
nothingness, until finally it all stops- the broth is ready.
Take a look.
What’s inside?
And then you see it, take a whiff, eat it, and move on.
And the process begins again.
It’s never about the little moments.
So by now it’s probably clear that the moment I’m talking
about is- as stupid and lame as it sounds- the HSC. Now up until now it didn’t
really hit me that this is probably one of the first major milestones of my
life. But it’s just crashed into me so hard that my hands are shaking as we
speak (is this a symptom for something because it’s definitely not something
I’m very comfortable with right now). They’re shaking so much I can’t really
type properly. I can’t think. I can’t speak. I feel light headed. My hands are
shaking- I know I’ve mentioned this fact like three times already but it’s
really freaking me out.
I guess…what I’m trying to say is…that I’m scared.
And I know a lot of people don’t think I get scared because
I come off as some bitchy, angry, violent little cunt. And I know that there
are other things for me to be scared about- things that actually matter and
that leads to a more final destination. But I am. I am so scared.
There’s just so many questions.
Did I choose the right
subjects?
Do I tell my parents
that I am actually certain that I don’t want to do medicine and that it’s
reached the point where I actually feel sick whenever they play it up as the
dream I have always had?
You know typical Asian questions.
You see, Dad just ambushed me and started talking to me
about rankings since he went to that Matrix HSC/ATAR seminar today. Completely
ruined my day- might I add. But I guess it kind of freaked me out. I’m in Year
11. I should be thinking about these things. I should be studying. I should be
trying hard. But I’m not. Okay… I do try and study but I don’t think I do it
enough.
I don’t even think I’m talking about just the HSC anymore.
I can’t sit at my desk long enough for me to want to do
something even remotely productive for more than a few hours. I guess I think a
lot about what I could be doing instead of studying. Maybe somewhere, in some
other time stream, I’m writing a sequel to a novel, or performing on stage, or dancing,
singing, painting, creating, sleeping, partying like Gatsby. Maybe, if there
was even a small chance that this were possible, I would be happy with what I’m
doing. Heck- I’d be happy to just be free from trappings of the life I’m
currently living. In a time where none of this matters and it truly was about
the little things and I could just go on with my life knowing that I’ve made a
difference, that the path I’m leading is one that I decided on without the
influence of others, that I could pick myself up when I’m down because I know
that right there, at the end of my path, I’ll be able to look back and think…I.
Am. Happy.
But I can’t. Because I know I’ll choose to do something that
I know I’ll regret and I know I’ll decide to keep all my questions unanswered
and leave them to waste away in the dark recesses of my mind. Because I know
that there is no other Jasmine, that there is no other time stream, that it’s
just me. Now. In my chair. Typing away on my computer when I know that I should
be fucking studying- god damn it-and that tomorrow I’ll do the same thing. Sit
and wait and waste away until I realise that there is no turning back and that
it’s too late to fix my mistakes. Mistakes that I’ll look back upon and think-Damn, Jasmine, you stupid little fuck! Look
at the sorry mess you’ve made.
I can’t give myself a goal because I don’t have one. I don’t
want one. Because I know that once I put that goal there, on my desk, on my
wall, in my mind, imprinted in my mind and seared into my heart, I’ll just disappoint myself because I’m never
doing to reach it.
I’m tired. I’m tired of having to sit and listen to them
harp on about it every day, asking me if I care- because I do, my god I care so
much that sometimes it just eats at me- asking me if I know what I’m doing, if
I have a plan. I don't have a plan and that's what frightens me sometimes. I can't even comprehend how people find it within themselves to not care let alone think into the future. To just sit there and think you know what? Fuck it. I still have the rest of my life. It's not a game. You can't just pick up where you left. You can't fluke it. You can't sit there and think that you possess some god sent gift and that you actually possess an inch of given talent. You need to work for it. You don't start walking before you start to crawl. You reach that big moment first and then you can move on to the next section or else you're stuck in limbo...maybe I care too much. And that’s my problem. Right there, that’s
my problem. I think too much, I dream
too much, I believe too little and I don’t know. And maybe if I knew, if I knew
what great perhaps I was seeking for, perhaps then I’d think a little less,
dream a little less, believe a little more.
I want to make a difference. There. Is that big enough for
you? Has that lived up to your expectations? I want to be able to wake up and
think that somewhere out there someone is happier because of me. I want to be
able to start a legacy that can continue on for generations. I want to be able
to do something with my life, create something that is bigger than me, with a
purpose greater than my sorry existence. I want to do something with my life.
Fear isn’t a choice. Fear creeps up on you without you
knowing. Fear is like a parasite that eats at you…no- feasts upon you until you
are nothing but a dried up carcass. Fear is that pain you feel as the knife
pierces your skin as you drag it across, cutting, slicing, until you see the
first drop of blood roll down like the tears that paint your face. Fear isn’t something I can control. Fear isn’t
something I can toss aside.
So today was an average day. I don't know why I'm starting to blog again or starting a new blog (on a side note: I'm pretty sure my old blogs still exist). Actually, I think it's because my friend Jess Tan told me to blog because I deactivated my Facebook. If you're reading this Tan, "SCREW YOU FOR SHOVING ME INTO A RELATIONSHIP IN WHICH I KNOW I WON'T STAY COMMITTED! YOU HEARTLESS BEAST!" I'm being serious. My friend Lamya thinks she has commitment issues but she's not the one with countless blogs, fanfiction accounts, tumblrs and Instagrams. I think if I could I would have had multiple Facebook accounts as well. I think I've clearly won that round :P
I'm actually not joking when I say nothing special happened today. I mean the only 'exciting' thing that happened was we had a substitute for Matrix tutoring which kinda spiced things up a little...
ACTUALLY! You know what's annoying me right now? Blogger. Seriously, what the cheesesticks were you thinking when you decided to update it from the original? I mean...have you seen it? I get it's all modern and hip and fresh but the old version was so much easier to use...I think. And I hate this:
The margins are tiny. This is something my English teacher- who has mastered the art of dickdom- would like. Does it cost you anymore to make the margins a little bigger? I mean you've done all this fancy shmancy stuff; the least you could do would be to have bigger margins.
Also we won Origin 1!
I'd go on about State of Origin but I really don't know much about it. Actually...I know more than the average female Asian student. But- I don't know- I feel so good when I bring it up. Like I watched the game, and I watch NRL. But I don't harp on about the players like my friend Kristie does with her tennis players (the Drojhasjbvic guy- if you haven't noticed I can't spell his name). Yeah, but like I was saying, I just like bringing it up. It kinda makes up for all the sport I don't do during the year (except blogilates- that shit should be an Olympic event).
Actually my friend Madi just sent me a text reading, and I quote,
"Tmrs 8.20 the pole. You jelly"
To which I replied,
"Why am I jelly? That's it! You'll be featuring in my first blog post"
Which I am very angry about! I have an art period every Friday morning when everyone has a free and my group brings up their little group outings whilst I'm wasting away in Art. NO BUENO! Except for Ann! She's buying me food tomorrow morning :)
Anyways and she replied,
"Doesn't jelly mean you good or smth like that"
She's such a cutie! She's like my mum! I texted my mum lulz once and she replied with what's lulz.
VIDEO OF THE DAY IS:
On a side note my parrot has been making weird duck noises and when he's not doing that he's eating shoes and when he's not eating shoes he's oddly quiet; I think he's suffering from an identity crisis. I'm not even kidding! I swear if he's not another species of bird (are ducks birds?) then he's a dog.
