Overprotectiveness doesn’t work. It doesn’t even really do just what you expect. Yes, for most of your life you will be sheltered from everything and once you do come into contact with real life, you can be shocked and appalled and not know what to do. But, if this happens soon enough, a different approach is taken. The child not only does all the things they’re being “protected” from, but they learn how to hide things better than most people would. That’s all that my overprotective, religious parents got me. An incessant need to hide everything I do for fear of a consequence that may or may not occur. And believe me, I can never trust my parents like they want me to and tell me I can.
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Last night I had a dream that I was in walmart and I found a way to ride the shopping cart all the way through the store without stopping or having to get off it. It invloved turning the cart at the right moment, but either way that was fun.
Then, I went home and apparently there were tiny elves throughout the world, hiding decretly through magic. They only sent me messages when I wasn’t looking, but then left them everywhere. I can’t remember the main four’s names. Anyways, supposedly I had saved them all from something a year ago, so I was able to go into their world. They had fantastically delicious food, and I was hungry. Right before I woke up, I had this plate of the best pancakes in the world and someone stole them as I turned to look the other way. Bitch.
Oh, for the frustration of schooling. They expect you to know some things that you just don’t (or can’t remember). I knew AP was going to be hard, but I still thought I could maintain my A’s that I’m so accustomed to getting. I really wouldn’t care so much if it wasn’t for college (the cost of attendance, acceptance isn’t as much my worry). Things I thought I was good at (or at least decent at), like essays. I fear for the loss of my voice in the academic style that wants everyone to sound exactly the same. Though I don’t hate what it could become, the process in getting there is ridiculous. I used to be fantastic at writing. What happened? Examples? Or was I always really just mistaking myself? Maybe I was never really taught how to write a good paper, maybe no one ever taught me what I was doing wrong- nothing beyond the basic elements of it, of course. I’d so much rather just tell you a story; tell you something I care about. I’d love to just give my opinion with logic- not random evidence.
Frankly, I just don’t know what to do. I’ll try, I suppose. I wish my best was “good enough”. That stopped being the case when my parents told me that not only am I probably not eligible for much financial aid, but they saved/will help me pay for nothing. Sure, a “blessing in disguise”- where my parents will have no means of control over me next year, but… if I’m forced to go to UMass (though not a “bad” school at all)-what was the point of it all? What was the point of spending all this time trying to get the best grades/test scores I could? What was the point of doing anything at this level? I was trying to avoid committing to art.
Don’t get me wrong, I adore art with all my heart and soul. I just don’t believe I’m “good enough” to make it on that alone. And I have other interests… so many other loves that I don’t want to be stuck as a “starving artist” when I could’ve been something that maybe had more of a guarantee that I’ll at least be able to get a “proper” job. Sure, of course I would do anything in my power to prosper anyways. If I could make it just as an artist… well I suppose it depends. Besides, who cares about my ideas besides those close to me? I think I’m interesting, but about 99% of people could not even give a fuck about my existence. Which is fine, I suppose, I don’t care about them either.
I just want what everyone else wants. My own piece of happiness and satisfaction with life.