When Life Hands you Lemons

If there are two words I hate in this world they are “normal” and “weird,” including all of their synonyms.

Brief history about myself. I grew up studying in an accelerated program; by sixth grade I was doing geometry that high school sophomores do, learning U.S. History that I’m currently relearning this year, as well as Greek history that I relearned in 9th grade. I think some of you can understand why I didn’t particularly enjoy moving over to the Mukilteo school district. They basically forced me to re-learn things. My brain shut down for about four years.

I remember, in that program… kids made fun of us all the time. We were the “challenged” kids.

Also, I’ve had this skin disease that makes me itch.  So, basically, every day since I’ve been born, I’ve been told that either my lips are chapped, or a certain part on my exterior body is bleeding or red (from scratching). About every morning I have a nosebleed. I have a thing on the side of my bed to stop me from falling off (I’m a very violent sleeper).

I’ve always been praised for my “skill” at playing piano. So basically, everybody’s known me as “the guy who’s really good at piano.” And like I said in my previous post, I don’t think I’m that good at it.

People constantly turn to me about problems with their computers. They even go to the extent of calling me a “nerd.”

People constantly call me weird, or “stalker.” I come across as a stalker to them because I do it on purpose. And it’s fun.

I think it’s safe to say that my life isn’t very “normal.”

But what’s normal? Not weird. But what’s weird? Not normal. Yes. Hahahaha. Sorry. Inside joke.

Anyway, what is normal? Everybody’s unique in their own way. Nobody’s normal. Nobody can deem another person “weird” because technically, we’re all weird.

And I lost my train of thought. I guess that’s it for tonight, then.

Au revoir.

-Edit-

Sitting in a hamper with your thumbs up and a 😀 face while someone takes a picture of you is WEIRD. Especially when you post it on facebook. There’s no “normal” for it.

http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs254.snc1/10116_164842302541_779622541_3606723_3295307_n.jpg

Sorry, Chris. This isn’t going to be a happy post.

Dear readers,

If there is anything I’d ask from you… ANYTHING, it would be to please, STOP FEEDING MY EGO.

Seriously. Some of you may say, “but you’re great at this, and that, and that other thing over there.”

But face it. I’m not good at those. And even if you do think I’m good at it, please stop telling me.

Also, if I absolutely SUCK at something, please tell me. That way, I can fix whatever I’m doing wrong and get better at it.

This has been bugging me for the longest time.

And I’m just here to say:

I’m not as good as you think I am. Now leave me alone.

Another ranting post soon to follow.

Today in English class, the teacher put up a picture and we were given about ten minutes to write down whatever came to our head. I, sitting in the back, couldn’t see the picture clearly, so I mistook the picture for a man and a woman leaning against a railing, rather than three women.

Anyway, here’s what I wrote in response to this picture:

Laura and I walked down the pier. The smell of salt water and the sound of waves caressing the dock struck me. For a moment, I felt pure bliss. This was my home. This was where I was meant to be. I had dreamed, as a child, of a life at sea, whether it be pillaging and pirating or fishing. I momentarily fell into a trance as I imagined what it would be like to be a sailor.

“Sean!” Laura snapped me out of my dream. “Look at those houses. They’re simply beautiful.” We stopped and leaned against the railing to study them more. I stared at them, examining their dark roofs and windows that once showed life–if nothing, now. “I wonder what it would be like to live here.”

“Do you want to know?” I asked.

“If it’s possible, yeah,” she replied. Little did she know, I had made a few visits here before this one. Little did she know, I would be proposing to her that day, on a boat in the middle of the sea. Little did she know… the house she was looking at… was soon to be ours.

_________________________________________________________

I thought it was okay. The plot is kind of all over the place, but I think it’s decent for a ten-minute write.

Thoughts?

One of the quotes that I remember most vividly is the one that “Friends come and go.” This have never really realized how true this is until this year.

As I go out of my way to branch out and find new friends, to talk to people that I normally don’t talk to, I turn around and realize that my older friends are doing one or more of the following:

1) Not talking to or ignoring me.

2) Trying to get away from me as quickly and efficiently as possible.

3) Avoiding me at all costs.

I think about this … and it saddens me to the point where I just wonder why I even bother to make friends if they are just going to turn around and walk away.

Yeah, something tells me that this is partially my fault, but if  I’m willing to turn around and try to get this friendship back together, I know we’ve had a good run and I want it back.

I just want it back.

Friends are what make this life worth living.