Saz' Story (Long and full of itself)
Posted: Thu Jul 12, 2012 9:25 am
Let's get straight into things.
I was born in a small town, nothing much to do, lived my first 8 years or so like any other kid.
After this things get more interesting.
Around age nine I began to immerse myself in the internet. For awhile I just played games like any little kid would, but after that my life slowly began to degrade.
No; this isn't some sob story (yet). The internet didn't ruin my life, but I digress.
Throughout middle school I was obsessed with being the best, and this drove me to work my hardest. I wasn't the brightest egg, but I managed to pull out good numbers.
Nearing high school, I began to lose interest in near everything. I kept up my grades, but eventually that stopped. Something got overwritten; I lost the ability to give a damn about anything that I felt didn't concern me, and I became immersed in myself as a result.
High school hits and my life does a vertical 180 and starts digging a hole downwards.
I'm told I have depression; at first I consider it to be a load of crap (because I'm always right, right?). After my SPECTACULAR entire Summer making up for my failure of the 8th grade; My parents were rather miffed and didn't want me to fail anything. Decibels never got any lower than about one hundred. I learned another peculiar trait about myself: I don't like being given orders. I may reluctantly follow them but they REALLY mess with my emotions when someone tries to tell me what to do. I can't stress that enough; At one point I was quite literally seeing red. I have two small "artifacts" (read: holes) in my wall from freshman year which are SO fun to look at and reminesce over how big of an idiot I was/am/destined to be.
Fast forward half a year...
BIG SURPRISE: Straight F's across the board in otherwise easy classes. I listen just fine; I enjoy learning. Of course listening is something you do of your own free will. Now HOMEWORK.....
Homework was (read: still is) the bane of my existence for a long time. I don't like being ordered what to do, and I don't like the concept of having to take time out of MY day to do something that I could honestly give a crap about. Tests? Fine; that's on my school time.
I found a nice way to work around this: I started doing my homework at school. Maybe sacrifice a little listening power, but it raised my grades enough to not make any significant difference.
Presto-screw-o, my brain rewires itself so that I no longer give any crap about homework, and I just focus on sitting there again.
Tried Online school; Enjoyed the concept of setting my own time (within reasonable limits, of course).
Worked good for about two days. After that I spent the entire Summer playing video games and ACTING like I was doing homework. Hoo boy it was fun; sitting with friends and not worrying about anything. Mother would yell at me and attempt to make me work; but I have a keen knack for calling people out and using their own ignorance to fuel my own regime, which has so far been my most *ahem* 'useful' trait.
At this time I began to work up a small cult following on the internet. I rule to this day with an iron fist. You know you're a clever bastard when you can be the devil to everyone and have them back at your feet a day later. Keep in mind alot of these people were my friends for years.
Sophomore year, nothing changes.
But then one day something strange happened; My mind had an error.
Suddenly math. Math everywhere; I couldn't get enough. The next thing I knew I was one of the most intelligent mathies in the school. I would spend OTHER PERIODS working on complex formulas and theorems.
Then I dropped it like a rock. I literally, overnight, went from "I'm going to be the best mathemetician since Einstein" to "Screw this, I've better things to do".
Alongside this; my math teacher, who at one point was someone I enjoyed going to to help stitch together fragments of information, to someone who in my eyes was a complete asshole. He's loud, obnoxious, and full of himself.
I learned that I don't like doing what everyone else is doing.
I gave up complete interest in school at all; it was nothing more than an area to talk with my friends. They would annoy me with video games they don't care about, call each other stingingly painful names (well, if we weren't friends I'm sure it'd offend SOMEONE), go around the circle and repeat. Never a dull day; even moreso when online, which at this point had become (read: still is) my haven.
Now I'm moving on to junior year, and I've accomplished nothing but burn holes in my family member's wallets. Empathy isn't exactly an emotion I'm familiar with.
Hatred and Sorrow are ones though. Oh, I know them both real well.
Sorrow is the guy who visits while the clock is making that infernal ticking noise while I try to sleep; he says "Hey bro; there goes another second that you could have spent not being worthless.", "Hey! Here comes another." while a strange liquid rolls down my face. Tears? Impossible; I'm invincible. It just push-starts the engine; and more thoughts of self-waste come to mind; culminating USUALLY in either stuff like what you're reading now (which proves to be just as wasteful as freshman year), or it degrades into worse thoughts, but I'll keep those because I can usually fight those off enough to get some sleep.
Hatred is the guy who comes around and calls me a pansy, picks my up and sets me off on a rage. In the end, attempting to use anything he gives me just ends up with me feeling more useless and empty.
I feel old.
I've lived sixteen years, and to me... I've seen it all.
I don't give a damn for this world, it's not good enough for me, and I'm not good enough for it. There's no reason to stay, at least not one I can think of.
There are two things I don't understand in this life:
Why must I care?
and
Why is everyone so dishonest and greedy?
I'm getting into rant mode here, so grab some popcorn.
I know there are people who care for me; thinking nice thoughts like this makes me feel even more like I'm the rotten apple in the orchard; and old man Sorrow wheels his jallopy around and opens his passenger door. Suffice to say I've usually nothing better to do and I go for a ride.
I like to trick myself into thinking that no one cares for me; that I'm a lone wolf. It keeps the thoughts moving.
I love to think that if I can't be myself, I'd feel better dead; but being yourself isn't allowed in this world. There's no where to go for me, no housing for people who aren't capable of bettering themselves.
I've forgotten how to care; by this point I've dug to the center of the Earth.
It's damn hot down here; and I'd like to get out, but every time I try I burn my hands. I've gotten to the top a few times; Lady Life is always there to kick me some new teeth.
I have a question or two.
What makes life worth it? What could there POSSIBLY be that could make me want to stick around? There's nothing for me, and I feel like nothing but an empty leech who constantly looks for his next fix; I hate people like that. Being me is all I know, and I hardly know myself. I ask others to give me some sort of label, but none are ever any different than what I already know, yet I want more.
Tell me what needs to happen. There has to be more than this sick, twisted fate life has given me. I can struggle all I want but the grip just gets tighter.
So goes my story.
I doubt I deserve much more of an ending than this.
I was born in a small town, nothing much to do, lived my first 8 years or so like any other kid.
After this things get more interesting.
Around age nine I began to immerse myself in the internet. For awhile I just played games like any little kid would, but after that my life slowly began to degrade.
No; this isn't some sob story (yet). The internet didn't ruin my life, but I digress.
Throughout middle school I was obsessed with being the best, and this drove me to work my hardest. I wasn't the brightest egg, but I managed to pull out good numbers.
Nearing high school, I began to lose interest in near everything. I kept up my grades, but eventually that stopped. Something got overwritten; I lost the ability to give a damn about anything that I felt didn't concern me, and I became immersed in myself as a result.
High school hits and my life does a vertical 180 and starts digging a hole downwards.
I'm told I have depression; at first I consider it to be a load of crap (because I'm always right, right?). After my SPECTACULAR entire Summer making up for my failure of the 8th grade; My parents were rather miffed and didn't want me to fail anything. Decibels never got any lower than about one hundred. I learned another peculiar trait about myself: I don't like being given orders. I may reluctantly follow them but they REALLY mess with my emotions when someone tries to tell me what to do. I can't stress that enough; At one point I was quite literally seeing red. I have two small "artifacts" (read: holes) in my wall from freshman year which are SO fun to look at and reminesce over how big of an idiot I was/am/destined to be.
Fast forward half a year...
BIG SURPRISE: Straight F's across the board in otherwise easy classes. I listen just fine; I enjoy learning. Of course listening is something you do of your own free will. Now HOMEWORK.....
Homework was (read: still is) the bane of my existence for a long time. I don't like being ordered what to do, and I don't like the concept of having to take time out of MY day to do something that I could honestly give a crap about. Tests? Fine; that's on my school time.
I found a nice way to work around this: I started doing my homework at school. Maybe sacrifice a little listening power, but it raised my grades enough to not make any significant difference.
Presto-screw-o, my brain rewires itself so that I no longer give any crap about homework, and I just focus on sitting there again.
Tried Online school; Enjoyed the concept of setting my own time (within reasonable limits, of course).
Worked good for about two days. After that I spent the entire Summer playing video games and ACTING like I was doing homework. Hoo boy it was fun; sitting with friends and not worrying about anything. Mother would yell at me and attempt to make me work; but I have a keen knack for calling people out and using their own ignorance to fuel my own regime, which has so far been my most *ahem* 'useful' trait.
At this time I began to work up a small cult following on the internet. I rule to this day with an iron fist. You know you're a clever bastard when you can be the devil to everyone and have them back at your feet a day later. Keep in mind alot of these people were my friends for years.
Sophomore year, nothing changes.
But then one day something strange happened; My mind had an error.
Suddenly math. Math everywhere; I couldn't get enough. The next thing I knew I was one of the most intelligent mathies in the school. I would spend OTHER PERIODS working on complex formulas and theorems.
Then I dropped it like a rock. I literally, overnight, went from "I'm going to be the best mathemetician since Einstein" to "Screw this, I've better things to do".
Alongside this; my math teacher, who at one point was someone I enjoyed going to to help stitch together fragments of information, to someone who in my eyes was a complete asshole. He's loud, obnoxious, and full of himself.
I learned that I don't like doing what everyone else is doing.
I gave up complete interest in school at all; it was nothing more than an area to talk with my friends. They would annoy me with video games they don't care about, call each other stingingly painful names (well, if we weren't friends I'm sure it'd offend SOMEONE), go around the circle and repeat. Never a dull day; even moreso when online, which at this point had become (read: still is) my haven.
Now I'm moving on to junior year, and I've accomplished nothing but burn holes in my family member's wallets. Empathy isn't exactly an emotion I'm familiar with.
Hatred and Sorrow are ones though. Oh, I know them both real well.
Sorrow is the guy who visits while the clock is making that infernal ticking noise while I try to sleep; he says "Hey bro; there goes another second that you could have spent not being worthless.", "Hey! Here comes another." while a strange liquid rolls down my face. Tears? Impossible; I'm invincible. It just push-starts the engine; and more thoughts of self-waste come to mind; culminating USUALLY in either stuff like what you're reading now (which proves to be just as wasteful as freshman year), or it degrades into worse thoughts, but I'll keep those because I can usually fight those off enough to get some sleep.
Hatred is the guy who comes around and calls me a pansy, picks my up and sets me off on a rage. In the end, attempting to use anything he gives me just ends up with me feeling more useless and empty.
I feel old.
I've lived sixteen years, and to me... I've seen it all.
I don't give a damn for this world, it's not good enough for me, and I'm not good enough for it. There's no reason to stay, at least not one I can think of.
There are two things I don't understand in this life:
Why must I care?
and
Why is everyone so dishonest and greedy?
I'm getting into rant mode here, so grab some popcorn.
I know there are people who care for me; thinking nice thoughts like this makes me feel even more like I'm the rotten apple in the orchard; and old man Sorrow wheels his jallopy around and opens his passenger door. Suffice to say I've usually nothing better to do and I go for a ride.
I like to trick myself into thinking that no one cares for me; that I'm a lone wolf. It keeps the thoughts moving.
I love to think that if I can't be myself, I'd feel better dead; but being yourself isn't allowed in this world. There's no where to go for me, no housing for people who aren't capable of bettering themselves.
I've forgotten how to care; by this point I've dug to the center of the Earth.
It's damn hot down here; and I'd like to get out, but every time I try I burn my hands. I've gotten to the top a few times; Lady Life is always there to kick me some new teeth.
I have a question or two.
What makes life worth it? What could there POSSIBLY be that could make me want to stick around? There's nothing for me, and I feel like nothing but an empty leech who constantly looks for his next fix; I hate people like that. Being me is all I know, and I hardly know myself. I ask others to give me some sort of label, but none are ever any different than what I already know, yet I want more.
Tell me what needs to happen. There has to be more than this sick, twisted fate life has given me. I can struggle all I want but the grip just gets tighter.
So goes my story.
I doubt I deserve much more of an ending than this.