It really has been a month. Wow. Whatever I said before about inconsistency takes on a whole new meaning here.
A lot has happened in the last month. Will I write it all out? No. A good deal of it is merely minutiae, and though it had an effect on my month, it didn't contribute to my overall state of mind. Some good stuff, some bad stuff.
My cousins on my mother's side are now here. They visited for a few days, but had to leave because my aunt's exchange students were coming and she was meeting them in another city. That was their excuse, anyway. It's true that the students were coming, but the real reason they do not spend more time with us when they visit is due in large part to the fact that my mother and her sister do not get along. At all. In any way. So that leaves us, the children, stuck in the middle of this ridiculous feud that puts our parents at odds. It was for our benefit that they stayed with us, and that our mothers did not explode at each other.
I finished school with 9 exams. I wasn't reduced to tears, but it was close. I have no choice, none at all, but to strive to be the best, do the best that I could possibly, as a human, do. Why? One word: Parents. They expect me to be supergirl and perfect and infallible. Well, newsflash: I'M NOT. I'm not perfect, not by a longshot, and I'm not infallible by any stretch of the imagination. I make more mistakes, large, small, meaningless, significant, or otherwise, than anyone I know. I may be book smart, but I'm not street smart. I have a total of ZeRo common sense. I know myself enough to know that.
Another thing I noticed recently. Keep in mind that I am the definition of a bookworm, and next to dreamer in the dictionary there is a picture of me (or there should be). So David's favourite music nowadays is Lord of the Rings music. I love love LOVE the Lord of the Rings. It's up there�as one of�my favourite books and some of my favourite movies. But, inexplicably, whenever my brother plays the music (and he does, all the time) I get completely and utterly sad. I hesitate to say depressed; it just misses that category. But I feel... desolate? I guess that's the word. My chest feels empty. My heart hurts. It didn't make sense at first. It is magnificently beautiful music, so why did I feel completely empty and desolate? What I have come up with so far, and I believe this is the explanation, is that that music represents everything that I, as a dreamer/bookworm/girl who doesn't fit in in her own world, desire more than is comprehendible and can never have. What do I desire so? Hmm. Ouch. I feel juvenile as I type this, but I might as well say (even though only a sense of deduction is necessary to see it). I want adventure. I want magic. I want to quest for something. I want to experience something that no one on this planet or in this life would believe. I want to see things that can't be seen here. I want magic, the extraordinary, fantasy. There. I said it. I want to live in a world with magic and go on adventures. I would give almost anything. Am I ashamed of this? Why, yes, I am. But that doesn't stop it from being true. And I still want it. So I know that I cannot have it. And here is my brother, playing the music, unknowingly blaring heartbreak on a loop for me, all day long.
Could I ever even consider admitting this to anyone? Yes and no. Charlotte feels the exact same way that I do. We confide these things in each other. And it makes it feel not so bad. But then I'm around everyone normal and it gets thrown at me, how blatantly different I am. And how unusual these wishes are to someone who could be called normal. Which doesn't help the desolation.
UGH. I can't believe that I came on for the first time in a month and spent the time whining. I'm sorry. I will try to come on more often, and maybe post something less philosophically whiny and teenage-angsty.
Song suggestion of the day: Viva la Vida by Coldplay. Really, really cool song.
~Annabel
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