The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain (jenni_the_odd) wrote,
The Dark-Eyed Mistress of Sweet, Sweet Pain


Tomorrow the upperclassmen are taking underclassmen to CiCis for pizza during the lunchtime break. Normally, I'd head home, shower, change, and show up at the band hall at noon with everyone else and not even think about it - but now there's Nicole.
I get the feeling a lot of this year is going to be like this. Left to my own devices, I wouldn't attend any of the non-required social events. (I haven't so far in my high school career. Why start now?) With Nicole the eternal socialite around, I get the distinct feeling I'm going to need to accompany she and her friends to many of these gatherings, both to keep an eye on them and to provide transportation. *sigh* I really don't want to. I love people; I sometimes enjoy getting up in front of a crowd and speaking - but I really dislike being in the crowd, particularly if there's a lot of people there. One-on-one conversations I can usually deal with, though I often run out of things to say and it just sort of dies. In small groups of two or three there's usually enough interesting opinions to keep some sort of discussion going. But when there are people all around you, it gets, interestingly enough, lonely. One other person focuses all their attention on you. Two or three have to pay attention to everyone else, but there's only a few people. In a crowd, there's no time for individuals, it's a "hi", then move on type of thing. Maybe I'm just not a social person.
I retreat by sitting in the corner and drawing. Unfortunately, this attracts the overly-kind people who want to talk to the poor kid who's all by herself. They ask her what she's drawing, those are good, has she been drawing long? Is she going to go to an art college? Is she going to do this for a living? ... I have had that conversation so many times that I'm way beyond sick of it. Pretty soon I'll start making up fake answers.

"How long have you been drawing?"
"Oh, these aren't drawings. They're schematics for my Death Machine."

"Are you going to do this stuff for a living?"
"Actually, I intend to kill myself right after I finish this picture, so no."

"What are you drawing?"
"Aye, pardon, pero no hablo ingles."

... it might work. Then again, it might get me locked away in a mental hospital, but at least then people won't ask.
If you don't want them to ask, you say, simply don't draw.
Well, that didn't work too well when I tried it. I wound up standing around looking as useless as I felt and wishing I'd brought a pencil and sketchbook.

Nicole, on the other hand, seems insane to me. Nearly every day this summer, I've seen her friends as I've dropped them off somewhere, or taken her to their houses, or them to our house. I know them better than I know my friends. That's sad. Really sad. They don't like me much, and I don't like hanging around them much. It's a constant reminder that Nicole is far better in social situations than I will ever be.

And on the lines of socialization, now that band has started again, I once more have to deal with people whether I like it or not. Michael's there, yeah, but he doesn't speak to me if he doesn't have to. Can't say I blame him, I'm pretty dull most of the time. Emily and Liz seemed to have bonded, and have been walking around as a unit. I'm waiting for them to blow up at each other. It'll happen, sooner or later. Only a matter of time.
As for Emily and Michael.. he seemed quite angry this summer, though I don't think it was so much with her as with himself for allowing the situation between them to progress as far as it had. But he seemed fairly friendly with her at band camp; perhaps they made some sort of truce.

The flute section proved their incredible mental abilities this morning. As a stretching-type excercise, each section stood in a circle, put their hands in the middle, took hold of the hands of two people whose identities they could not discern, and attempted to untangle themselves. The clarinets were done in about 10 minutes or so, max... we had formed three individual circles linked like a chain. We're odd. The flutes, on the other hand, took a good hour or more according to my watch. It was amusing. Emily and Liz were late, so they stood aside with me and watched the group. Michael was the only guy, surrounded by girls - we kept musing that he must be pretty happy 'bout that. He managed to skin his knee on the asphalt at some point, and Emily was saying something about it. I mentioned, half-jokingly, that it was okay because scars were sexy! She looked at me and said "Michael? Sexy? nuh-uh." I said that he could be... and that scared her away. I laughed. Somehow, I found that funny.

Overall, school will be al right, as far as classes go. As far as people go... this year is going to suck so much ass. I wanted out of high school right from the first day (if these are the best years of our lives, I should have killed myself long ago) and this year is looking to be... none too lovely on the social scale. I dislike the whole social order of high school to start with, so it's just added aggravation that I find myself participating in it.

Someitmes I want to be a normal teenager... go to parties, hang out with friends, talk on the phone, have crushes on any cute guy I happen to meet, fret about how I look...

And then I take a look at the people who are like that. And I can't imagine what it's like... NOT to have these stories, these constantly unfolding and evolving worlds in your mind. NOT to know what it's like to create and draw and write and have people appreciate it. I suppose... if I couldn't do that... I wouldn't want to live. of course, I probably wouldn't know what I was missing, but it's still disturbing and I can't help equating going through life like that to living in a coma, unable to truly take part in life at all.


Anyway, I only have to be alone for one more year of high school... then I can... uh... be alone for four more years of college... and then... I dunno. Be alone until I finally give up and stand in the middle of the freeway so a semi can run me over? Sounds like a plan to me. I never said it was a good one, mind you, but it is a plan. Hell, I may just alter the timeline. Katy Freeway is nice and empty with only the occasional speeding motorists late at night.... but all I need is one.

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