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It is so easy to be mad at the world.

The Boring Ramblings of a Boring Person

Today I thought a lot about popularity.

A girl in my school, one that I was partners with in my English class for two weeks, has landed a wonderful opportunity as one of five girls who will go on tour with Justin Bieber and perform together in the opening act of his concert. I just found out today from a friend.

My friend however, acted almost disgusted by this girl. She confounded me because she mentioned this girl's name, opened up the girl's official webpage on the internet, made me listen to one of the girl's hit songs, and yet relayed all of this information to me in an unsatisfactory tone.

I think my friend is jealous.

But yet, I really have no shame myself in envying this increasingly famous and obviously talented girl. This girl is seventeen years old, and she's on tour with Justin Bieber, opening the concerts for him. She has achieved so much in her short lifespan, and also knows what she wants to do with her life. She found what she was good at, and went all the way in, until she got somewhere in the business. I greatly envy this sense of accomplishment she gets to hang over her shoulder wherever she goes.

Not only that, but this girl is beautiful. She has a gorgeous body, flawless skin, and an incredible, pearly-white smile. I lack every quality, and I can not deny my jealousy for such traits.

I wish I knew what to do with my life. I am screwed for college, let alone university- I already mentioned that in yesterday's blog. I don't know what to do, but I know I want money. Lots and lots of money. It would solve SO many problems; it's unbelievable.

I need to prioritize. But how can I do that, when I have no idea where to start?

I need to stop giving excuses. If I don't know where to start, then I need to find someone who can help me. If I don't want to do that, then I need to say that my original excuse is crap, and that I can start solving my problems by getting professional advice through books or the internet (the latter of the two is so much easier, but not as trustworthy as its competitor).

I was just mean to my brother. Great. Now I'm a horrible person, too. Kind of.

Sometimes We All Just Need a Good Cry

So in the past ten seconds, these three thoughts came to mind (in chronological order, of course):

1. I have SO much to say, but have no clue where to begin.
2. Scratch that. So much of what I have to say is shit. So many of my thoughts are pessimistic, self-absorbed, nonsensical, and stupid.
3. And now I feel bad for saying all of that. Grr.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about my past. I guess that's what people who are unsatisfied with their life do.

I've been thinking about how in eighth grade, I graduated from Rosemont Middle School as an honors student, with straight A's, excellent citizenship, numerous awards in math and English, awarded as the best poet in my class of 1,200. I had moved from Seattle three years prior to that, and had almost adjusted to the new lifestyle. My parents were proud, my brother was little, and I was skinny and happy.

Three years later, my world has completely changed. I got straight A's in ninth grade, but in tenth grade I got numerous B's and and C. This year received two C's and numerous B's as well. I flunked my AP tests. I am a failure in so many ways, and yet not a single friend or family member knows. I guess you could say if there's one thing I am good at, it would be keeping this information from them. At least, until my actions will come to bite me scathingly in the butt. And that day will come frightfully soon.

I'm also a little overweight. I used to be so skinny and lovely; my mom, aunts, and (female) cousins would always compliment me on having such a beautiful, slim body, and my friends would voice their envy to me as well. I was never arrogant about my body, but I took the compliments for granted. I didn't realize how the tables would turn in such a short amount of time. Now I'm the girl who's complimenting others, envying the slim, healthy bodies of my girl friends, hating myself for not being able to whip myself into shape again. It angers me, it depresses me... But then the pain numbs, and for a fleeting second, I realize that I don't care what people think of my body, nor what I think of anybody else's. This numbness ebbs away quite quickly however, and I'm back at square one, an angry bitch- angry at the world, angry at herself... It's a cycle, I guess. And it sickens me.

I'm not an honors student anymore.

Today my AP Enlgish Language exam result came in the mail. I got a 2. I failed. Well, I got a 1 last year on my AP Biology exam, so I guess you could say this is one tiny iota better. Nonetheless, this prime number has further sealed any chances of heading straight to a four-year university. Fuck. I hate myself.

It's so easy to be mad at yourself. It's also incredibly easy to get mad at others. To blame others for your mistakes, and to not accept that you are completely and solely responsible for what has happened in your life. I do that a lot. It's soothing, in a disgusting sort of way.

I just wish I could start over again. In a different city, or a different state. Hell, I wouldn't even mind starting in a different continent! A fresh start is such a desirable thing.