I think I have come up with the universal motto for all high schools. High schoolers everywhere should live by this, it should be put on banners and hung in gyms all over the world, it should be tattooed into teachers foreheads and burned into the wrists of students everywhere. "Shut your mouth or put a gun in it."
Now the latter option isn't an option for me because I've made promises to stick around for a few people, but otherwise this is the perfect saying for high school. Says everything that needs to be said in a quick concise way. Takes the human aspect out of it, kills the emotional side... Everything you need to grow up.
On the side collum of my Spanish warm ups, I always write whatever interesting truth I've discovered that day. Between the social world that's been designed for us, to the miricle that all the train wrecks that are our lives somehow create a functional society. Marginally functional. Today's was something like "what happens when the one thing you think you're good at, the one talent that makes you feel successful, is torn apart? When it's proven a useless skill or inadequate? You grow up."
Two people have faith in me getting my all of my failing grades fixed. My mother, and my girlfriend. Really that's it. If there's anyone else honest out there, they haven't spoken up. I have two people left who believe in me, one of which I'm related to by blood. If I knew any better I'd say that wasnt a good thing.
But whatever, man is the only being driven by faith, faith in himself. Unfortunately I don't have much of that left these days, but I'm sure it'll recover. While it does recover, I'll make my usual rounds and talk to all my teachers to see how I can change for them, and improve for them. Maybe it'll work this time. Maybe they'll tell me off.
I took a nap today after school, mostly out of conflicting emotions and twisted thoughts. It was easier to just shut down than deal with it. Anyways, I had one of those dream things during the nap. Rare for me really. In it, I was in Spanish. In real life Spanish class, there's a kid who's an amped up football player who likes to bully kids in his sophomore class. Earlier in the year I didn't stand for it and turned him in to the principal. Best thing I've done all year. He's less aggressive to his other classmates but he's turned his rage on me- (call me Jesus) but here's the catch, he only acts up when there's a sub. He knows he won't get away with anything when our normal teacher is there, but with a sub he has a chance.
So, in my dream today, there was a sub in Spanish and this bully was trying to start a fight with me, so I grabbed a pair of those old solid metal scissors off a nearby desk and broke the middle joint, so the two handles were separate and both had blades. They were schoolhouse shanks. I dropped one, and handed him one, and kept forcing it on him and saying "take it. Go ahead, stab me. You want to get rid of me? Huh, do you asshole? Want me gone forever? Stab me, right here in the neck. Do it you pussy. Come on fucker, do it." I kept giving him the blade, and he kept backing up, bumping desks and accidentally moving them. I kept forcing it into his hands, and kept daring him to do it. I exposed my neck, I wrapped his hands around the makeshift shank, I got on my knees, and he still wouldn't do it. Eventually he was backed into a corner and I was kneeling and had the shank in his hand pressed up against my skin, pushing on my neck with the tip. He began crying, weaping and shuddering. He dropped the blade, and fell to his knees weaping. I got up from my knees and just looked at him crying. Then I left him, and with a perfectly blank face walked back through the sea of misplaced desks, found mine, and sat in it as if nothing had happened. The class was horrified. I slowly came back to consciousness after that, I woke up that is. It's interesting what my mind jumps to, because this roided up asshole hasn't been causing too many issues in the last few days. So why this dream now? What's the deal brain?
Yesterday I found out that a 4.0 student I know used to cut. The scars are all the way up to her elbow, with maybe a half an inch between each of them. I acted like it was no big deal as a sort of comfort, and these days it really isn't. It seems like every week or so I find out someone I know cuts. I never ever talk about it, and I'll never expose their names to anyone, but it's interesting how it befalls so many different people. Failing kids who bleed on the floor till they nearly faint in a locked pitch black bathroom because they're not happy with a boyfriend, a 4.0 student who cuts open her wrists and bleeds because she doesn't think she's good enough. Because she "went through a bad time." Their excuses are very few for their taboo. Their parents don't even know usually. I can name 6 kids who's parents don't even see the deep scars on their own children's wrists, or deeper scars behind their eyes. I know there's a lot more that are rumored too. Faint whispers and teary apologies to lovers in the halls. Oregon is a pretty cold place for most of the year, but I promise you that has nothing to do with the fact that most of the kids at school wear sweatshirts year round. An education that should last, scars that will.
I've recently found an unusual adoration with my two fish. I have a typical goldfish and an albino bristlenose pleco- a small cute suckerfish. My new favorite thing to do is to watch my pleco eat cucumber. It sounds weird, but the little bastard really does it. He cleans the soft insides out and leaves the tough skin behind. It's quite a sight really. It's got me thinking about things that would never have met without people. Like if people weren't around, would a fish ever see a chicken? Would a crab ever taste a chicken as bait as they do in some crab traps? Would a pleco ever know what cucumbers or sweet peas taste like? Would a dog know bacon? Would it know a shag rug? Would deer know what tomato leaves taste like? Without us, many more common experiences wouldn't have ever existed.
Well if nothing else, typing has calmed my mind a bit. =)
No comments:
Post a Comment