Spoiler! :
Hi Jenny,
I'm going to be extremely blunt about this. My summer is extremely limited. I have a job from 7:30 A.M to 6:00 P.M (really 8:30 to 5, but commute takes an hour). That itself restricts the amount of time I have to do anything BSAC/BUS/school year related. I also have a lot of family things to attend to, such as visiting relatives, weddings, and taking care of cousins/being dragged around by parents to places I don't want to go. On top of that, I feel like shit (sick) because of all the work that is piling up. Oh and I forgot to mention that I haven't done my summer reading yet or my physics packet. Although my weekend are normally times that I get stuff done, those have been taken away from me quite often. That leaves week days in which, when I get home, I simply just want to relax. After all, last time I checked, it was summer vacation.
In other words, my vacation has yet to come. I went to school up until nearly the end of June. I had roughly two or three days to myself before I went to work on July 5th (yeah, the day after July 4th, fun). It is August 8th as I write this email and my job ends on August 19th. As of August 20th, my family will be taking a vacation to Canada to visit a church, which is not my idea of vacation either. That is a chore. Once that is done with, I may have a week or two at best before I do more stuff for BSAC and then school starts. I just want some time to myself and try to enjoy "summer vacation".
I want to work on the website.
I want to go to BUS meetings.
I want to help BSAC with everything that is going on.
I want to go to work.
I want to finish my internship.
I want to go visit family members.
I want to help out whomever in the family that needs it.
I want to do my summer reading.
I want to start my physics packet.
I want to stay fit and healthy.
But really right now, all I want to do is play video games, write my book, eat out by myself, and try to catch up on sleep (get into a normal habit, not this 12 to random time nonsense). I know this is how life is. We wake up, go to work, go home, and then sleep. That's how life will be in eight years when I'm done with college. But I shouldn't have to feel this a decade early because when people talk about fond childhood memories, I just fucking laugh at them because they don't exist. Right now I'm not really feeling overwhelmed or anything. I know I'm not thinking straight (no I'm not on drugs), but I'm just slightly, ever so slightly ticked off that I have to do all this bull shit and society expects me to do all of this because if I don't: "I'm never going to get into that college everyone else wants me to go too, I'll never become anyone in life, and I'll be stuck at the bottom of the food chain for the rest of my life."
You can entirely disregard this email though. Because I know that although I send this email and although you will try to console me, I'll still end up going to the next BUS meeting, I'll still end up doing stuff I don't really care for, and I'll still feel like ass. That's just the way life works. So I guess there was no point in writing this email, nothing will change. Nothing ever will with this world. I guess you could say I'm a little more depressed than angry now. Nothing ever changes in this world. Not the backwardness of how society works, or politics, or capitalism, or racism, or sexism, or any type of -ism, or war, or hunger, or poverty, or even life. From the minute you are born, you are set on a path and if you stray off of it, you're ousted from our little "utopia" and then shunned from life.
Would you like to know my path? I started school at the young age of three. I went to two pre-schools (a pre-pre-school and then a pre-school), followed by Kindergarten 1 and Kindergarten 2. I went to a public school for 1st to 3rd grade and upon reaching the 4th grade, I reached what people call the "upper tier track," in which they talk about me as someone who is destined for success. I enrolled in the Advance Work class for 4th to 6th grade and in the 7th grade, I enrolled in an exam school. It wasn't the most prestigious school (though I could have gone to Boston Latin School if I wanted). I went to the second school, simply because I wanted to ease the burden on my parents. I trudged through those years, constantly battling other people for what we call "college spots". Next year in the 11th grade, I will be taking two AP's and almost everything else Honor's with the exception of Japanese, which itself already feels like an Honor's class for someone who has trouble learning languages. In the 12th grade, I will graduate within the top ten students and then go to an Ivy League (Harvard, where my sister goes) or a +Ivy League (MIT). In four years I will graduate and then pursue a masters/PhD. After majoring in Engineering/Business, I will join a well known company and rise through the ranks or start my own business. After several years of working, I will have accumulated a tidy sum and retire. That is the path set for me. Or rather, that is what is expected of me.
I find it funny that there is such a drive for youth to step into a more "mature" position. I use to be proud that I stood above my class mates. I use to be proud that I knew when to speak, when to be quiet, when to act, and when to pretend to be that little peon of society. But as time passed, I wished more and more to be ignorant like the teenagers people so often stereotypically describe. I wished that I wouldn't have to worry about politics that happen now and will affect me. I wished I wouldn't have to worry about the scandals that rocked the world now and would later affect me. I wished that I wouldn't have to worry about the impending wars that would affect me. But I can't. It's in my blood and it's in my mind. Some people have blessed me for having a superior mind. I call it a curse. When I stay up late at night, worrying about something that I've analyzed far too long, it frustrates me at how nothing ever changes. Because although it's nice to be able to realize all of these things, it's even worse when you realize that this is the way it has been for decades/centuries/millennia/beginning of man kind.
I've mentioned my emotions: angry and depressed. But perhaps it is in reality I am scared. Scared of the new and open? Perhaps that is the case. But I'm more afraid of myself. I've resisted the temptation to go smoke weed with my friends and do drugs. I've resisted the temptation to get wasted and then do stupid shit on the streets. There are times though, when I stare at the pills in the cabinet. There are times when I stare at the kitchen knife in the drawer. There are times when I stare at the extension cord plugged into the wall. There are times when I wait for the train and wonder what would happen if I jumped onto the track. But hey, I don't feel pain; I'm just a mindless pawn. I can survive another sixty odd years of this life, right?
But there is more than just that. Sometimes I stare at the metal pipe in the corner. Sometimes I stare at the machetes and hunting knives lining sporting good stores. Sometimes I stare at the I.E.D's that terrorists have strapped onto their chests. Sometimes I stare at the countless videos of guns. Sometimes I stare at my own two hands, wondering how they are capable of hurting and helping at the same time. Because it's not the world I'm afraid of or the people. I'm afraid of the day I may loose control of myself. The day I might harm something or someone. The day I may finally go crazy and off myself in a quiet corner.
That isn't going to come though. That's just a dream because that would be all too nice. No. For now I will truck through life. I will forget about this conversation I have had with myself for years. Maybe I'll come back to it, read it, and relive the emotions. But these are just that. If I kill my emotions and act like how society wants, it'll be ok right? Perhaps the time for being a rebel is over. You can only fight for so long before you lose everything you have: you pride, your honor, your friends, your family, your wealth, you joy, your will, and perhaps even your life. I've fought for so long. I don't want to be a typical 9 to 5 office worker. I don't want any of that I moan as tears drip down my cheeks. But fighting society is like holding back a flood with a bucket. I'm one small head screaming in an island of billions.
I'll steel myself, harden my face, and droop my bangs over my eyes. I'm tired. But there is just that one spark inside of me that I'll hide and lock away, to keep safe from the world. I'll wait until the chance comes to relight my soul. I'm tired and my energy is wasting away. I'll go into stand by mode and turn on my automatic personality. I'm scared, I'm angry, and I'm depressed. But nothing in this world matters anymore to me. I can throw away wealth, friends, and family just to answer this one question:
What is it that I love in this world?
Spoiler! :
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