Wednesday, 12 August 2015

Anybody I Know Personally...

If you're not reading this, that's great.

I feel like I'm Dan from Gossip Girl, and I hate Dan from Gossip Girl.  You know that part where he writes a book about all his friends and they get really mad at him?  Well, I feel like that's happening to me, except less upper east side TV drama, and more me overthinking everything in my own mind.

If I've offended or hurt you in any way, I'm really sorry.  I can't imagine what reading something seemingly based on yourself must feel like, because we all get a little sensitive when we hear anything about ourselves.  Just know that this is a blog of the negative.  I rarely ever write anything on here unless I've had a bad day or am feeling frustrated, which is why reading this may make you think I'm really sad and pessimistic or something.  Keep in mind that I also have so many positive opinions, but most of them simply aren't featured on here.

I know the wise thing to do now would be to delete this blog and start a new one, without telling anyone what it's called, but I really don't feel like doing that.  I love all the commenters and readers I already have, and I'm not prepared to start on a clean slate.  I also have the feeling it wouldn't be too hard for someone to find out again.

I will, however, be more generic about everything I write.  That means no more targeting specific people, and no more obvious possibly insulting references.  As one of my wise friends (who I'm not sure has completely forgiven me) said, "just know that some things are better kept to ourselves."

Yesterday felt a bit like an interrogation, which is understandable.  I'd much rather people find out what I think from my face, rather than reading stuff behind my back.  I was asked whether I felt bad about writing what I've written before people had read it, or after.  I'm not sure what I answered - I may have possibly avoided the question or stumbled through some kind of half-understandable response.  To be honest, I didn't think anyone would read any of this, and no I didn't feel bad when I wrote it.  A lot of the stuff I write are simply rants in the moment, and everyone has opinions and long trains of thought; I just happen to write mine out here.  And I know people have said it's a public site and how could I not see this coming, but I truly didn't think anyone I know really read any of this.

So I guess my answer is that I really did only feel bad after people read the stuff on here, because some of it really is offensive and I don't like the fact that I've possibly hurt any of you or that any of these hyped up thoughts have even entered your mind.  Some things aren't meant to be seen for a reason, and I didn't think any of this would ever be shared.  This blog was completely innocent before it became all too real for you.

If you're under the impression that this blog is just a place where I bitch about people, you're completely wrong.  If you've read my posts, you'll know that this blog is literally all about me, and there's probably only two posts (one that's now deleted) in here that are directly about anyone anyway; and I'm sorry about that.  From what I've heard, I feel like a lot of you only read this to look for stuff about yourselves, which is fair enough, and I just don't want you to get the wrong impression about what I'm writing about here.

I know this is really unfair of me, but I'd seriously appreciate it if you'd stop reading this blog - or if you're really that curious at least read it at home, not in front of people in the middle of school; and please don't tell anyone else this thing exists.  If they ask what my blog's called, just tell them to ask me.  You have no idea how self-conscious and irritated it makes you feel when an entire group of people are all just crowded around a laptop, looking at your blog right in front of you, when you'd told them just a minute ago to stop looking at it.

I'm not really sure why some of you continued to read it or told others it existed when I made it pretty clear I didn't want anyone reading it, but I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume I just didn't make the message clear enough.  I know our lives are somewhat boring (including mine, which is why I don't get why you're reading this blog), but I'm sure there's loads of more entertaining things to watch or read aloud to everyone, so let's just not do that again.

If there's one thing I've learned from the unnecessary drama created by this, it's that a small incident can feel so huge in my mind.  I'm not sure if it's my imagination, but quite a few people are treating me differently, whether it's that they're being more distant or wanting to talk about this topic with me more than they usually talked to me before in the first place.  To be fair, I've also been bringing up the topic quite a bit, because it's still stuck here in the back of my mind knowing that people are reading these posts.  Over the last few days I've gotten over 300 page views from Australia, and that's quite a few more than usual.

I feel like people are really bad at talking face to face, because of the lack of real confrontations from both a pissed off me and any surprised readers.  I know that I explain things much less eloquently in person, and I'm way too scared to tell some people how annoyed I am, but I'd much rather talk it out face to face than have something discussed behind my back.

Some people are also treating this complication like it's funny or just another piece of drama.  I guess I would too, if I weren't the cause of it.

So if you know me personally I'd really appreciate it if you didn't read this blog.  And if you do, at least read it discretely.  In some ways, it's daunting knowing that people I know may be reading what I'm writing, but maybe that could also be a more honest display of myself.  Just keep in mind, if you ever think you're reading something about you, what I'm writing will be based on people in general and what you're thinking probably has more to do with your own self reflection.

And always remember, if you want to know what I'm thinking you can always ask :)

Love,
M

Monday, 3 August 2015

People I Sort of Know

It's taken a period of growing up to come to the realisation that other people are complicated.  Everyone is so beautifully complex, with an outer reputation and physical exterior, and their own thoughts on that image buried deep inside.  They're just like me.  They lie to themselves.  They must care.


She's always got a seemingly intellectual book with her.  Last I checked it was the original Peter Pan.  Today it's Jane Eyre.  Her hollow looking face is resting in her hands, her pale skin contrasting against her dark hair and the black frames of her glasses.  Her eyes are looking up at the teacher, but I can't tell whether she's listening to his droning voice, or is simply day dreaming.

To everyone else she's invisible.  It's easy for them to forget she exists.  I've never heard her yell.  On the rare occasion that she speaks, her voice is so quiet.  Sometimes she'll give off a small laugh with someone she knows well.  She's so innocently kind, but maybe that's what happens when you rarely say anything at all.

I wonder if she minds what they think of her, if she's content with being unknown or being seen as shy.  Does she ever wish she could join in when she fades into the background while her friends are talking, or is she deliberately not contributing because she doesn't see the point?  Does she care about any of those stereo-typical teen things, like formals and parties and friends, or does she genuinely love being separate from it all?  If she does, I admire her for that.


She's laughing.  It's a dorky laugh, but I can tell she's genuinely happy.  She yells something with her slight lisp, rocking back and forth, resuming her laughter.  What should be contagious happiness is contained within her table, because no one around the room cares to hear the obvious bout of hilarity coming from them.

The last time I talked to her she loved cats, Pokemon and tic-tacs.  She used to be unhesitant to say hello to me, but now she'll sit in silence and watch.  I remember the time I showed her a quote stating that of sleep, a social life and good grades, one must always be sacrificed; and she confidently said that she had all three, only to take back the social life a moment later.

I don't know whether she likes being who she is.  What's going through her head?  Is she more focused on her reputation, or her relationship with her friends?  Does she ever crave to be the centre of the group, because sometimes those people who seem content with playing an insignificant role really just want to be recognised.  Sometimes I think she's unhappy, but in that moment right there, she seemed like the happiest person in the room.


She just rocked up on the day.  Her hair was braided, her heels were low and she had a thick black parka over her comfortable slightly bohemian looking dress.  Her entire character screamed that she would work in the hyped up overly well-dressed crowd, no matter what.  It had been two weeks of school and hearing nothing from her, and she was back.

She was sitting alone on the steps, watching the swelling crowd of people krumping.  She didn't have her phone out, she didn't pretend she was with anyone.  She was just there.  She made all the foreshadowing angst people felt seem meaningless.  She seemed so utterly content and unafraid.

I wonder whether in her mind she's trained herself to do this; if every time a doubtful peer-pressuring thought of conformity enters her brain she pushes it out; if it's all an act of repulsion.  I wonder if she cares, or if she's a hell of a good actress.  Or maybe her thoughts are simply centred somewhere else.  I wonder where she learned to have the courage to dance alone in a crowded room, or where she learned to act like she does.

...

I wonder if anyone's ever observed me in a beautifully complex moment.  What would one of those moments look like?

Love,
M