Yes, my posting rate does seem to have gone down, doesn’t it? It’s not because I’m not writing. It’s because I’m writing a lot. I don’t know how this works, really. I seem to have long bouts of producing content, and then I slow down, while I start releasing content. My most frequently-posting periods are probably my most dormant. Also, life is packed. My goodness. Being sixteen is hard in these years, in this school, doing this IB, in this country, and a whole lot of other factors.
Anyway, sometimes this stuff gets to me, and I write things to just…get them out. This is something I wrote over a month ago, when I was near a very dangerous emotional break-down:
Very frequently, I get scared of losing myself. I’m afraid to fall. I seem to have established at least a part of my identity, or, at the very least, where I want to go with it, or what I want my identity to actually BE.
I know I complain about this a lot, but This Place is an amazingly closed microcosm, where so much is always going on at once, so that you forget that there’s even a world outside that truly doesn’t care about this institution’s afflictions. Unfortunately, one might forget that he himself is more than just a This Place student. I will myself constantly not to forget.
So, sometimes, I want to write, or I want to read, but evil voices in my head tell me things like, “Oh, do it when you’re free” and “Wait until things get less crazy.” And then I realize that…hey. In this place, things are never going to BE less crazy. It’s either a horizontal line graph or a line sloping with a positive gradient, where the Y-axis is madness and the X-axis is time. If I were, for instance, to tell myself that I’ll write when I’m not busy, I wouldn’t write another word until May 2016. Or maybe ever. Who knows?
We’re wrapped up in things we have to do and so we can’t even be wrapped up in the things we want to do. I see this all the time everywhere, not just here; the number of teachers who know little about the world aside from their subjects they teach, students who are so consumed in school that they don’t know the can DO exciting things with their lives even now; the number of adults who don’t read books, the number of teenagers whose discoveries through browsing are limited to Snapchat…the list goes on. I don’t want to be that kind of person.
But there’s so much to do, and way too much more to know. My God, there is so much information in this world, so much happening now, so much that happened in the past. (But I’m not too certain about the future.) If there’s one thing my few months of being an IB student has shown me, it’s that there’s so much to know, and I really don’t know any of it. I’m constantly being bombarded with information in the classrooms these days, left, right and centre. It’s made me realize that in future, and even at present, actually, I have to know things. And I have to know things beyond what I learn in the classroom.
That’s the catch. That’s the ultimate paradox of the This Place IB student. You’re supposed to read things, watch things, constantly acquiring knowledge, while at the same time, the IB sucks all the time from your life like a …time vacuum thing…That was a badly-ended sentence. But it’s like someone telling you to go out and eat food while he/she stuffs your mouth as soon as you’ve managed to get around to swallowing the first mouthful, and at times, even sooner.
There’s no particular reason that I’m writing this, other than to basically get it out of my system. I just want to know stuff, and really not utterly fail school – or die. Yeah, I’d rather not die from school. My death must be more epic than that.
Oh, and another thing! (Don’t sue me, Eoin Colfer.) I feel like these four years of high school is the period when I’m supposed to learn like, everything, knowledge and skills combined, so that I have something personal to take with me to university or wherever I may go.
Looking at the adult life, I fear I may someday be too busy to make any actual progress on the path of constant improvement because, you see, I fear stagnancy.
Summary? I’m sixteen, I don’t know anything, I know who I want to become, and I don’t want to go off the track to getting there.
This didn’t quite go in the direction I planned.