I REFUSE TO ACCEPT THIS. WHY IS MY WONDERFUL CLASS OF 11 BEING ASSIGNED TO A MISERABLE COMPUTER LAB AS OUR HOMEROOM?! ;___;
Ok really, I’m just ranting. I know perfectly why.
“It is not possible to assign home rooms for all Senior High classes, and priority is given to those classes with fewer subject bandings (as they have less movement between lessons).”
Thanks, that’s nice to know.
“The Timetabling Comm has made considerable effort to create, for each class, a timetable that is “compact” and yet provides sufficient breaks for the students. However, due to the complexity of our school’s timetabling and the various deployment constraints, a small number of you (esp. those taking odd subject combinations) might have either too long a break between lessons or too many consecutive lessons without a break.”
The life of a humanities student .___. We are sad creatures.
The thing is, conformity denotes efficiency. Systems cater to the majority and the minority often gets left out in the process. It’s inevitable and it’s simply tragic for my class because we are old people who cannot climb so far and we will be so cut off from the rest of the world ): Good thing we are awesome on our own.
But I wanna rant about something else: how difficult it is to be different.
Maybe some people may naturally draw the conclusion that I am someone that is different for the sake of being different. But I don’t blame you, you probably don’t get it.
Being different can be painful. Heck, it IS painful. You are always getting misunderstood. You are constantly getting bullshit from people. They won’t be kind. They are gonna give it to you in your face and twice thrice ten times of that dumb shit behind your back. You’re gonna feel that constant need to fight. The fight against people, against common opinion, against conformity. Sometimes, you lose track of what you are fighting against but you know for a fact that you can’t stop because once you do, all that you did in the past is for naught and you know that you are fighting for something no matter what it is.
You don’t do this sort of nonsense to yourself just to “be different”. i AM different, I am not trying to BE different. I wouldn’t be so miserable if I am. I just have to stop being and conform with everyone else. I can strive to be popular, like the things most people like, do things most people do, talk about the things most people talk about and just lose all form of personality possible.
I can’t do that. I honestly can’t. If I could, I would have a lot less trouble attempting to fit structure into my essays, that’s for sure.
And the thing is I am so frustrated. With how difficult this is but I am still doing it. I can’t really complain but I can’t help the frustration. This road to being different, to choosing different things… They are difficult decisions to make, they really are. To those of you who make fun, who are you to make fun? And for those of you who pity us, what makes you think we need the pity? We need no pity, we need no help. We need sincerity, we need support. For me, I wish for one day I can step into a room full of complete random strangers and tell them I want to be a filmmaker and they wouldn’t give me funny looks. Hell, I’ll lower this expectation: I just want one person to smile at me and say, “good for you!” Genuinely, sincerely, from the bottom of his/her heart. I’ve enough of narrow-minded mindsets. You don’t have to be odd to accept the odd. Just don’t condemn them.
It’s 12am and I’m getting incoherent. Just saying.
The world is making me so tired to be a dreamer. I would like to think that there are people who are really jealous of me being able to dream so big as though there are no consequence. Do you know how much I want to yell, “FUCK THIS SHIT I JUST WANNA RUN AND RUN AND RUN AND SOMEHOW REACH MY DREAM!! I DON’T CARE ABOUT MONEY I DON’T CARE ABOUT BEING REALISTIC I DON’T CARE ABOUT MY GRADES I JUST WANNA DO THIS SO BAD I DON’T MIND DO ANYTHING BECAUSE NONE OF THIS CAN STOP ME!!” I want to look at people with that glint in the eyes, the glint that appears because I’m so nuttingly determined. I want to frighten people at how reckless I can be in doing this. I want to be a legacy. But there are always people around to tell me that I can’t make it or I have to be realistic and I just get so damn afraid.
Fuck realistic. I’m doing this. I really want to do this. And I am gonna do this. Call me naive and call me stupid but I am visualising a story for myself where I honestly just throw everything out of the window, inclusive of my under-utilised brain and whatever’s left of my common sense and just run after my dreams. You know those inspiration stories where the poor actor scraps by eating bread once in two days but then end up landing the role of a lifetime and becoming the most famous and successful person around? Yea I am thinking something along those lines.
Bring on the bread. Bring out the hardships. Bring on the scrapping gum off the subway in some lonely foreign land in exchange for a meal. I honestly don’t want to care anymore.
I want to be happy. And I will be happy doing my dream. 2012, be kind. The years ahead are already going to be very tough on me.
*
By the way, I want to say a big ginormous FUCK YOU to this group of people: the group that goes “Oh it’s so amazing how this person dares to be different. It’s so courageous and admirable!” & they are the first to laugh at the people who are different. “Lol what a loser/loner/lame person, who the hell does that!?”
Y’all are really disgusting. And Mother Monster approves.
And for those of you who are different for the sake of being different, like just simply doing so for no apparent reason, your call. I guess while I find that kinda pathetic, it beats being a copy of someone else. Why you wanna die a copy when you were an original? Cliche but so true. I certainly wouldn’t want that. What makes all those blind followers of the popular crowd believe that they are better off being like them? Who planted ideas in them that they have this shot at being better at the originals at being themselves? So ridiculous, this world that is.
Done ranting incessantly, my brain is really overreactive at night. Gosh.
