Life seems quite unfair at times
I feel old.
Dreadfully so. I've been looking up the blogs and journals of old classmates, from secondary school all the way back to primary. It seems their lives are on an upward path, blooming into the heartsickening beauty and joy of the bright gaudy hour. after which there is nothing. But for them, the present, the future life seems all there for the taking, there is at least some measure of happiness, some change for the better (although it would be practically impossible to become worse off than they were when they were "young", I'm not saying they've become better people or anything though).
Their legs have gotten longer.
Their faces have become "better", longer, ovalish, whiter.
They are going someplace, as in, they're going to graduate with better CCA records and marks than I will.
They have friends--or rather they can talk to their classmates because they're around the same level in terms of smarts and temperament.
They are going to have more fun than I ever did or will, although they don't deserve it. Becuase they are the same people who crushed me when I was still with them.
The list goes on. And in contrast, I feel old, or more accurately, as if I have never been young. The trajectory of my life seems to have been a long dormant miserable period as a retarded child, through an invisible leap to sudden old age. But in spite of this, nothing seems to have changed. I've remained what I was in face and figure, in fact, I have become heavier and that weight leaves me earthbound. I still don't do well in school. I have no friends and can't get along with the people in my class, or rather, they are indifferent towards me and my reaction is nothing because I can't bother with them.
I seriously wonder if I will spend the rest of my life stewing over unfulfilled ambitions, the wreck of dreams and suchlike. I too was once a child and as that child, I wondered who I would grow up to be. Certainly my dreams have changed, and so have times, but still. But still. The bitterness is there.
Daily life.
My Project Work Group.
I don't care if anyone sees their names, they are just names.
Glenn
Lionel
Phuong.
Just for the heck of it.
Dreadfully so. I've been looking up the blogs and journals of old classmates, from secondary school all the way back to primary. It seems their lives are on an upward path, blooming into the heartsickening beauty and joy of the bright gaudy hour. after which there is nothing. But for them, the present, the future life seems all there for the taking, there is at least some measure of happiness, some change for the better (although it would be practically impossible to become worse off than they were when they were "young", I'm not saying they've become better people or anything though).
Their legs have gotten longer.
Their faces have become "better", longer, ovalish, whiter.
They are going someplace, as in, they're going to graduate with better CCA records and marks than I will.
They have friends--or rather they can talk to their classmates because they're around the same level in terms of smarts and temperament.
They are going to have more fun than I ever did or will, although they don't deserve it. Becuase they are the same people who crushed me when I was still with them.
The list goes on. And in contrast, I feel old, or more accurately, as if I have never been young. The trajectory of my life seems to have been a long dormant miserable period as a retarded child, through an invisible leap to sudden old age. But in spite of this, nothing seems to have changed. I've remained what I was in face and figure, in fact, I have become heavier and that weight leaves me earthbound. I still don't do well in school. I have no friends and can't get along with the people in my class, or rather, they are indifferent towards me and my reaction is nothing because I can't bother with them.
I seriously wonder if I will spend the rest of my life stewing over unfulfilled ambitions, the wreck of dreams and suchlike. I too was once a child and as that child, I wondered who I would grow up to be. Certainly my dreams have changed, and so have times, but still. But still. The bitterness is there.
Daily life.
My Project Work Group.
I don't care if anyone sees their names, they are just names.
Glenn
Lionel
Phuong.
Just for the heck of it.
Labels: classmates, ennui, frustration, project work, schoolmates
posted by fairypenguin at 3:09 AM
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