screw it. I don't care about sounding sophisticated today.
I don't care who ends up reading this long deep personal psychoanalysis. whatever. now you get to know how screwed up I can get.
I am so frustrated. I was practically sailing through the last few months. I don't know what was the turning point. Maybe it was the day I turned sixteen - suddenly, I lost my motivation and my momentum for everything.
I've decided maybe purging all that frustration will help. I used to keep journals and rant in them. Until I found out my family members were reading them. But they're probably less likely to read this here. I only told one person about this blog. I'm pretty sure others know about this by now, but whatever. I'll be flattered if anyone cares.
Tennis
I was playing pretty damn good last month. I won a tournament during Spring Break - the first in a long time. Self-confidence has always been one of my biggest weaknesses on the court, and I thought I managed to solve the problem. I don't know when it happened - probably around the times my allergies suddenly returned after disappearing for about two years. I was completely unmotivated and pissed at myself all the time. My footwork has gotten lazy again and my backhand sucks ass. I'm having a hard time controlling my temper again - a problem I thought I figured out last month.
Writing
Around December, I came up with a brilliant idea - I took a boring looking composition notebook and started scribbling random stuff in it during class. I'm sure my French teacher started wondering why I was suddenly so studious about French when I aced through all her tests anyway. I was writing in that notebook nearly every day. I plotted the entire storyline, did six character sketches, and wrote random vignettes and whatnot. It was the most complex and original idea I had dreamed up of yet. I posted the first chapter online just to see what kind of response I would get. I probably didn't post it at a good hour, but the two responses I got were both very positive. Inspired? No. At some point, I had exhausted all my inspiration. I was almost forcing myself to sit down, and when I'm forced to think, I don't usually get anything done. My muse is dead.
Piano
I'll admit I was somewhat disappointed when I didn't pass the second round of Panel, but it wasn't a big shocker. I knew compared to the top tier students, it would have been all luck if I made it that far. The good thing was, I finally left the teacher I never got along with. I finally switched over to the teacher I truly admire and respect. I don't know what the hell is wrong with me. Why do I only work hard under extreme pressure? The week before the first round of Panel was Procrastination Week: I played four hours a day for the entire week. My mom could only sigh, "You should have worked that hard from the beginning." And now that it's all over and testing isn't but months away, I'm totally slacking off again!! I should be playing way more than an hour a day. Once again, the motivation to work is gone, the inspiration to actually think about each piece is dead.
The Future
Sixteen sucks. Now you're pressured to start worrying about college and start taking this test and that test and blah. My parents were furious when they found out J and C were both taking the SAT II this June and I had no idea. "WHY DON'T YOU EVER TALK TO YOUR FRIENDS ABOUT THIS STUFF?!" why the hell would I would talk about this stuff when I don't even want to THINK about this stuff? Now my parents are telling me to study study study because I took two practice tests and I didn't get an 800 on either of them.
Plus, they've pretty much assumed that I'll be training for something in the medical field as a career. I don't really have an issue with that, but honestly, I don't know anything about medicine. what if I totally hate it? what if I throw up at the sight of surgery? Though I'm not those weak whiners who scream at the sight of blood. Come to think of it, I had to learn that blood was gross. (In third grade I pricked myself and said casually, "Oh, I'm bleeding!", as if I just talking about something everyday. Like the weather. Meanwhile my friend screamed, "Eww!!! That's gross!")
People usually say something to me like, "Oh you're so artistic! Are you going to take music or writing in college?" The answer is a definite NO. My parents definitely will not pay for me to take anything impractical. The irony is my mom has a Ph.D in art. ART! I asked her once why her parents let her take art. I guess in Taiwan, she could have easily gotten a job teaching Art, perhaps as a professor. I'm not really complaining, I guess. If I can suddenly get so sick of writing, then there really is no point in investing in that sort of thing.
Mental
I have come to the conclusion that you can be depressed without being suicidal.
I don't know if everyone goes through that phase in middle school. The one where you keep wondering who will cry for you after you die? After experiencing three childhood deaths, I've come to the conclusion that people will remember you at first. You're almost an instant celebrity. Then they'll slowly forget about you; maybe once in awhile they'll remember. Well, I was over that stupid phase a long time ago. I am depressed pretty often, but I will never ever take my own life.
My brother and I are complete opposites. He is the optimist, the cocky one. I am the pessimist, or as I prefer, the "realist." I'm rather two-faced as well. I doubt I seem very pessimistic at school; I'm always doing stupid things like coming up with nonsense rhymes for cheesy love poems with G or yelling out loud in the journo room, trying to explain why supermarket eggs don't hatch. I hate how I am 100% introvert. I'm usually not the one to initiate conversations. Sometimes, if I'm not sure how to act around someone, I just avoid looking at him when I know he's probably looking right at me. IT DRIVES ME NUTS.
I don't know if it's a bad thing, but I keep to myself a lot as well. There are some girls who tell their friends EVERYTHING - oh I love so and so or oh I want to have this or that. I don't feel comfortable around people I don't know well. Very few people have seen me go crazy or laughing my head off. I clearly remember two instances when I suddenly exposed my weird side to two people who are now pretty good friends of mine. One of them was with Y. We were walking to practice with J when J suddenly said another one of her clueless statements. I burst out laughing nonstop and Y looked at me as if I had suddenly morphed into an alien. The second was at a Japanese restaurant with W. I was eating green tea ice cream for dessert when my brother made an idiotic remark about the cushions we were sitting on. I was laughing nonstop. W had never seen me laughing that hard - he though they had drugged my ice cream.
I've got a big match tomorrow. More another time. :]
