December, 2011 silhouette 

December, 2011 silhouette 

Rings. Still grounded, being sneaky. x

Drawings I did on my hand/ arm when i was supposed to be listening in class

The Icebreaker

I had been seated on the plane for a while, waiting for the remaining passengers to board. A few empty seats were scattered nearby, and I was glad because there was mostly business-men who had ipods already plugged into their ears and their laptops already perched on their discount suits. I knew none of them would attempt conversation, and I was quite relieved as I was exhausted and only interested in getting home. Then a family boarded the plane, the mother carrying a whimpering baby in one hand, and an oversized diaper bad was slung over her other shoulder walked with intent and assurance, trying to deflect the groans and whisperings people were throwing at her. The father followed close behind her, also holding a diaper bag and a young toddler who was kicking and wriggling in his arms, while prodding a young child-least five years old- along with his knee, down the isle. They approached the section of the plane I was in and my heart began to beat faster. I knew young children would pose a problem to my plan to sleep the whole flight, but I wasn’t one to get irritated with parents about their kids, unless they caused too much trouble. So I leaned back in my seat and smiled at the sheepish looking mother as she scooted into a row, trying to calm the whining baby. The father then paused in the isle, smiled at everyone seated in the sections near him, and announced: "Welcome to hell!" And took his seat. I saw as he sat down that he was grinning ear to ear.

Honest dad, classy fellow.

  • me: my hands are always cold, i hate it.
  • him: let me feel, *takes my hand for a moment to see* Yeah they are! woah!
  • me: Your hands are warm.
  • him: yeah they usually are...
  • me:
  • him:
  • me:
  • him: Wanna hold hands?
  • me: no. :)
  • him: well it was worth a shot. :p

symptoms of failure

I’m giving up my hopes and dreams, to pursue more realistic aspirations. My mother hands me stacks of letters from colleges that I’ll never be good enough to get into, and gives me a frustrated, almost condecnding smile, as if to say: “you aren’t smart enough to get into any of these, but here’s a little tangible reminder in case you forgot.”

As I toss them aside, with a lump in my throat, I know that my failure is her failure too. I may be passing all my classes, but thats not enough. I can’t get into an ivy league, or law school. I’m her biggest regret. My brother on the other hand, makes up for my less than spectacular performance, with his incredible capabilities, and far above average intelligence. He can solve complex problems in his head, and give people exact calculations for any arithmetic problems.

I scored very high IQ points when I was tested a few years ago- “vastly above average,” they said. they also said I was extremely bright, I just don’t apply myself— But that’s just something they tell parents to make them feel like less of a bad parent for breeding a complete and total intellectual dud.

I can draw. My voice can carry a note, and play a few songs on piano I can write an essay or two, sure; no problem… yet I’m obsolete, useless and I feel like not only am I failure to my mother, but to myself… 

despite all of the negativity and disappointed glances I recive, I still can’t help there is something bigger.

As ridiculous as it sounds, I have an ambition, a desire- to prove. I may not be able to unravel complex math problems in my head, and unlock all doors toward mathematical endeavors, but I do have a purpose. I have something I need to do. I can’t quit.  I don’t want to be that way. I can do something, and I will do something. and I can change not only  the way people see me, but how I see myself. 

But for now, it doesn’t matter, because the world doesn’t care, and I’ve got to jump in or miss my opportunity.