Earlier today, in our Oral Communications class, we were spared a few minutes to recall an experience in the past that may have greatly affected who we are in the present. And in an instant, I remember the thorns of high school. I remember exactly how I felt about high school. Still the same. Very much the same. HORRIBLE.
If I were to speak up straight in class, I just might again fall back in a downward spiral reverting back into a nefarious black hole just to cover up that feeling of disgust and self-hatred. So instead I opened up my blog on my phone and looked up the post that expressed my sheer disgust for my high school: That Hellhole Called High School.
The AC was right beside me blowing cold puffs of air while I sweat like I was in the middle of the desert. I was trying to keep my calm and poise. Every word I read out loud still hits me to the bones. My hands are trembling, I can’t even scroll down properly. My voice is dying down, my throat is drying up. I did not make eye contact because I don’t wanna see how I was perceived at the moment. I was very vulnerable.
I was holding out fine until I got on the last line where I used a curse word. I was too carried away for my bleeping skills to do its job. I was a second too late. I said the F-word in class. Fck, my teacher was listening to every word I said and clearly she heard the last one.
Indeed, high school was that painful. And I’m still very bitter about it. I’ll always look fine, but I’ll never be fine. I hate how I was stupid enough to get some balls reading a very personal article I wrote. I hate how I fool myself into thinking I will be alright. And I also hate the fact that this is going nowhere.
There, it’s out in the open. It’s always been there. I will forever be hateful with things around me. Nothing to lose. I’m fine because this has been the norm for a period of time already. I am fine. I am.
But who am I kidding?
I’m just a curbside prophet, with my hands in my pocket and I hate that rocket!