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How to Control Myself so I Don’t Respond to Infuriating Situations Like a Complete Teenager
A Guide to Stupid Thoughts, by Kim
Mr. J’s disagreement lessons don’t really come into consideration when it’s an argument in Real Life. Obviously.
It’s hard enough to keep the bile from my throat, let alone really ponder the reasoning behind the raucous shouting.
Strangely enough, my head is clearing as the headache gathers. The sour ache at my temples and in my chest congeals as rational thought stomps through and fury pumps as if from a bellows through my veins.
Really, I’m ungrateful? I suppose I am. Sincerely and honestly, I take for granted everything I possess and the love I receive. I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t trample over the world as if I owned it.
And so she asks, “What do you take the world for? What do you take me for?”
I take the world for a heartless and cruel universe in which life could end at the drop of a hat. I take her for an angry woman whose temper makes me want to vomit. I still might.
But what is life if I don’t live it like it’s mine? I take my existence for a precious thing, and shit, I wouldn’t work so hard all the time if it meant nothing to me. It means so much that I can’t help but try to live.
So, you know. Naturally I didn’t argue back. I did ask, politely, I thought, if she would like me to. If she’d agreed I might have obliged, I don’t know. I’m not some child she can push around anymore.
Not that she was ever physically violent. But if there are any speculations about my own temper, and why I never really lose it, that’s why. I know it’s kin to hers, and it’s oh so very ugly.
I’m sorry for being ungrateful. I’m sorry for asking for more than she was willing to pay. It’s about a new phone, by the way. Mine won’t charge. At two years old (never having been replaced) I’m genuinely surprised it’s still alive. The Droid Eris seemed perfect, and we almost upgraded, until the “Internet and Data Use” option appeared. Thirty extra dollars (per month… expensive, I understand), and there goes the lid. Flipped.
Oops. I realize I don’t get annuity, thanks. Why didn’t you just say you were broke? I wasn’t aware that I was sharing such a dirty look, sorry. And hell, I’ll keep my eyes down and veiled now and refuse to open my mouth, I suppose.
I did tell her that I wouldn’t work so hard and give so much if I didn’t want to match all that she gives me. It’s so stupid, and I guess I’m not strong enough, because yeah. My voice was thick and pathetic with emotion and I wished I didn’t care so much. I hate conflict. It makes me sick.
Filed under: Events, My Day, Ranting | Tags: 100, admit, admitting, am, any, anyone, anyone else, anything, audition, auditions, awkward, balls, before, befuddled, believe, bogoroditze dievo radusia, bony, boy, break, breaking, broken, butt, can't, cannot, carefree, chair, chance, cheerful, cheery, chill, chilled, come on, confident, conversation, crush, crushed, crushes, crushing, decent, department, deserve, dickau, different, dirty, else, example, famine song, fat, fogrot, forget, forget it, forgot, friend, friendship, fun, go, grip, guy, happiness, happy, he, he'll make a way, heather, him, honest, honestly, hypothetical, hypothetically, imagine, just, kim, know, lack, lap, laugh, leg, legs, let's pretend, little, long, lots, make, me, mind, mr. fleischman, much, my, myself, naive, naturally, nice, no pressure, not, not confident, novice, obligation, obligations, oh, overthinking, pressure, pretend, rachmaninov, Ranting, raving, real, relationship, relationships, remark, remarks, right, sang, saw, scared, seat, secret, see, seeing, sing, singing, something, song, spoil, spoiled, success, sullied, talk, talking, them, there, thin, think, thinking, thinks, thought, too, too long, ugh, uncomfortable, unusual, voice, want, wanted, while, why?, wish, wished, with, without, worried, worries, worry, xylophone
Today was a success. Xylophone audition did not go as well as I wanted it to, but I got a 100 on my singing, and Heather and Mr. Fleischman were there, and it was nice seeing them.
Oh, uhg. Forget it, this is not what is honestly on my mind right now.
I want to know why I can’t be happy around a guy? I can spend time with him, and laugh, and that’s cheerful. But when it comes to doing something that’s not just talking, I get awkward, worried. I’m nervous. I’m not confident. I am scared.
And I think to myself, come on now, honestly. It’s not like you’ve never done anything before, and it’s not like you’re doing the dirty with him right now, you just chilled out with him for a while. No pressure.
But, take this as an example. Hypothetically, let’s pretend I go to sit on his lap. For lack of a chair, naturally. And let’s pretend that when I sat on his lap I worried about breaking his leg… is my butt too bony? Can he tell how much fat I have on my legs?
And then he (hypotheticall) remarks, “It seems like you’re uncomfortable, though…”
Get a grip, Kim. Or get a seat. A decent one.
I deserve a little happiness and carefree fun with a boy. I normally feel unusual admitting that I should get something, it is my right to have it.
But I do deserve to have a little fun. Without worrying about obligations or what he or anyone else thinks of me. I’ve had enough trouble in the guy department for too long to believe anything different. My only real relationship was spoiled and sullied. Any crushing I do is done in secret because I don’t want to ruin friendships or make conversation awkward.
But if I have a chance to make something of a friendship turned attraction, than shouldn’t I take it? I’m always ranting and raving about taking the initiative… where are my balls?
I don’t have any, but hypothetically let’s pretend I really should grow some and take that chance.
It might be completely worthless and I might be bullshitting myself into thinking that something could come of this. But free, unrestricted fun would be so welcome, so warranted. I’m busy and stressed and a strong and confident person. I’m not the sort most guys are attracted to. Come on, I might be blonde, but I’m not a stick and aside from being a good laugher, a good listener, and an okay joke-maker I have nothing appealing going for me. I have an ex-boyfriend that everyone knows about and disliked, and I made a fool (publicly) out of myself for him for the majority of last year. I’m not a slut but I can be kind of a smartass sometimes, which puts me at the bottom of any list of interesting prospects, naturally. I don’t do drugs or party (yet, I guess), so my reputation on that front is clean. To boys, I’d be boring. Maybe a little bit pretty, because my hair’s kind of cool, but generally uninteresting and unintriguing.
Therefore, if I have an opportunity to change that… shouldn’t I?
I don’t want him to take up a huge part of my life, because my life revolves around my family, friends, and school. And success. I’m ambitious. But I’m worried that if I take a step out onto this particular limb, I’ll fall straight off the tree, and fall hard. I don’t want to be falling for anyone. It’s a crush, an interest, and that’s all it is. Nothing serious, but it’s got possibility. What if I make it serious, though? It’s so habitual to just gravitate toward the intense, serious, straight-faced attitude.
Why? Have I been brainwashed into thinking that serious is good? I want a lighthearted relationship that feels nothing like a relationship! A friendship, with benefits.
But then again, do I really? Didn’t I like the bonding, the adoration?
Ehh. I could live without it right now. It’s too reminiscient of last year’s catastrophes. A carefree series of rendezvous would be just fine with me.
The end.
Kick Drum Heart 