So old

It’s been two years since the last post and almost ten years since we all graduated from high school. Yeah, time flies and all those clichés, but does it get you wondering about whether or not what you’re doing is life making any impact in the world? I feel like most people get jobs to make money for themselves rather than make any sort of change; for example, someone in business or finance just makes money for themselves or for their clients. Whereas a doctor makes money but more importantly, aids and saves people. I find it frustrating that the “best jobs” are often ones touted as making the most income rather than measured in merit, and it’s still difficult to reconcile being a writer/artist in a world where people look down on you or have assumptions about your job. I constantly wonder if I should be doing something else, followed by constantly reassuring myself that what I’m doing is in fact worthwhile and meaningful. This entire paragraph probably should’ve been posted on my blog instead of this one that one checks anymore.

Also, I’m going to change the layout of this because it looks bland. How is everyone else doing? Excited for the high school reunion? I’m considering lying to people and telling them I own a medical marijuana clinic. It probably would come across as more accomplished than a writer.

Reading makes me sad

Let me rephrase that. Reading sad things make me sad.

I’m currently in the middle of a surprisingly good gay-themed novel called Where You Are by J.H. Trumble. It’s about the a young high school teacher and his growing relationship with one of his math students. Most of the time, when I read gay novels or watch gay-themed films, I don’t care if people get together or ruin their lives because a lot of the time, it’s predictable. And after a while of watching so many similar films, it becomes more and more difficult to actually care for the characters and to be on their side. In this novel, I’m finding myself on both these two characters’ sides. Their love for each other is so obvious, so pure that I want them to get together– and yet, because of their teacher-student relationship, I became super scared when things started to get too intimate.

That’s all backstory to my explanation as to why I’m sad, which is that I’m at a part in the novel where the teacher has vowed to disconnect himself from his student, as he just found out his student is underage. It makes me sad because I like both of them, yet I can understand why they can’t be together. Although it’s a young adult novel, I don’t know that they will be together in the end, but I sure as hell hope so. Or else I’ll be sad for days…

Listening

My high school agenda asked, “How do you rate your listening skills– awesome, so-so-, non-existent, or somewhere in between?”

My answer: “So awesome. And I’m not trying to be braggy, but I am a really good listener. I realized this when I saw that poster in Ms. Stafford’s class [a picture of a cat with the words “I hate when people talk while I’m interrupting”] and then it just clicked!

I remember that poster, and I remember how it really did just click when I saw it. After that, I always let people talk and refrain from interrupting until after they’re done talking. I think this puts most people off and they think I’m not talkative because sometimes I don’t say much. It’s easy to misread me, I think, but I’m really not that difficult to understand.

Fear of success

Asks my high school agenda, “What does the term ‘fear of success’ mean to you?”

A: Nothing. I don’t really have a “fear of success.”  Yeah, I might get too rich.

Success and failure

My agenda asks, “In  your school career, what was the most successful group project that you participated in; what was the most disastrous?”

I answered, “Successful: my AIDS project in Gr. 10. We succeeded cuz we like each other and it was actually semi-fun. Disastrous: skit for French class in Gr. 10. Disastrous cuz we didn’t have the props and [something else. I think I remember it. I was with Jordan, who was actually in Gr. 9 and whom I had a giant crush on. I think the skit was going to a summer camp and one of us had a snorkel. I don’t remember it going badly, but I do remember not knowing the what hell was going on and not working on it very much, which is probably why it ended up being so disastrous. Oh well.]

The Future

Another one of my musings from the point of a high school senior.

Q: “What do you enjoy doing now? If you had a crystal ball, what might you see yourself doing as an adult?”

A: “My possible future? Well, I want to get a record deal and work with producers and songwriters. What will likely happen is I’ll go to university and become nothing, really.”

Oh, how optimistic I used to be.

Goals back in high school

While I was cleaning earlier today, I came across my old agenda from high school. Most of it was boring crap about assignments, but every so often, I answered the philosophical questions posed by the makers of the agenda, usually in some sort of angsty way.

One was about goals and being driven to do stuff. The question they ask is “Did you record a goal last month? Great, have you started moving on it yet? No? Then it’s time to create a game plan. Write in your baby steps here:”

Here’s what I wrote.

1. Get money.

2. Go to a store.

3. Buy a new life.

4. Apply liberally.

5. Enjoy the outstanding effects!

Oh, how witty my 17 year old self was.

I Am

Apparently I haven’t posted this one.  I wrote this back in Grade 10 for one of my classes.  It was based on a template that everyone in the class got and we all basically had to fill in the blanks.  I’m assuming the teacher read it but she didn’t do or say anything to me after.  I probably would have.

I Am

I am depressed, alone.
I wonder what it’s like to be normal
I hear words of hate dripping off peoples’ mouths.
I see his face
I want him to notice me.
I am depressed alone.

I pretend it’s when I’ve gone to hell and back.
I feel afraid of getting too close.
I touch the soft mist of his aura.
I worry about myself.
I cry from rejection.
I am depressed, alone.

I understand true understanding.
I say life is without meaning.
I dream of even the shortest exchange between him.
I try to be myself.
I hope to make it.
I am depressed, alone.

Dream 11

And while I’m on a roll about Jordan, here’s another one from Sept. 11, 2005.

There was a whole bunch of people watching this outdoor thing around Victoria Drive.  When it was over, everybody started [leaving right] away, like after the fireworks in the summer.  I needed to get to the Victoria Drive bus station.  Since there were so many people, it was hard to get through.  I saw some Grade 11’s there, like Spencer.  People kept stepping on my shoes.  I got to the crowded bus stop.  While I [walked, I saw?] J Lo’s dead body on the way.  People were crying, so I guess it was because of her.  I saw Jordan in the navy blue shirt that I saw him on Friday.  Immediately, I went over to him and said hey.  He seemed a bit surprised but I dragged him away to a quieter place.  I asked him how he was and he said he was okay.  For some reason, my hands were around his waists and his were around mine.  I told him we needed to talk.

We went and sat down on this picnic table.  Jordan sat across from me.  Karen Lee sat beside him.  Jordan told me I was too late; he already had a boyfriend.  I wasn’t really sad, just… disappointed.  I asked what his bf was like.  he said his bf was nice, kind, etc.  He told me that he would not tell me the name of his bf and I said that was okay, since I was gonna find out and bring it up again.  He told me that he really, really, liked me in the past.  I asked why he liked me.  He said that he didn’t really like me (personality-wise) but he though I was hot.  He also said he did crazy stuff just to talk to me.  For example, he made up an account on MSN Messenger named JD Onick that lived in Toronto.  Karen used the user to talk to me cuz she said she was bored.

He said [something illegible] that I had missed my chance and that I was too late.

[My commentary: oh what a dream.  Like I said, I doubt he’s actually gay but typing up these dreams on my blog is giving me ideas for another gay romance story… hmmmmm….]

 

Dream 10

From Aug. 24, 2005

I was in the old house, in my own room.  It was about 8:00 at night, or that’s what my alarm clock said.  I think my sister introduced me to this guy in a robe, who was actually Jordan.  Almost immediately, I began making moves on him.  I remember we talked about stuff, but I don’t remember what.  I put my arms around him and felt his warmth.  But he was all, “Don’t get me wrong.  I have nothing against those people.”  In other words, he was straight.  I (obviously) was sad and asked if he could just lie next to me on my bed.  He did.  Don’t know how it ended because the dream was too long ago.

[My commentary: sigh.  I think I can decipher this one.  I had a huge crush on this guy, and actually knew a little about him so it wasn’t just an infatuation based on looks like it was for Sean.  Anyway, I really thought there was a chance he was gay, or maybe it was just wishful thinking.  At the time, though I longed for a boyfriend, what I really wanted was to have a gay friend, to have someone I could talk to about these things.  Despite coming out at 14, I thought that I’d be somehow find a hidden community of gay teens like me at school but that never happened.  I’m sure my lack of any sort of popularity/most people never knowing I was actually out contributed to it as well.

In the end, Jordan probably did turn out to be straight and it really wasn’t until post-high school that I started to actually talk to and find people like me.  It was so alienating, so lonely.  More lonely than I can really put in words.]