// h e a r t o u t //

it’s just (3,752 of) you and i tonight; why don’t you figure my heart out?

physical heart: anatomically correct (i’d hope). doing fine, bit stressed out by the amount of pizza i’ve eaten in the last three weeks and the fact that i don’t do enough cardio at all.

metaphorical brain heart: fervently passionate about the renewal of vows that i’ve had with the 1975 – we are an even happier couple now and i can’t go a day without them, it appears. also wants to write about heart out.

i like heart out for more reasons than i thought i would. in my re-listen of their first album, i wtried to figure out why i like the 1975 at all. i tried to find my favourite songs off the album, i tried to see if i liked the song more if i liked the video, and i watched so many sets of live shows to see whether i still liked the song when it’s performed live.

i like heart out for all of these reasons and obviously because i’m a gratuitous oversharer, i’m going to put more of my heart out here. if that’s even possible. if you ever need to piece me back together, i share my innermost secrets and emotions with thousands of strangers on the internet – you’ll find me there. i’m a very private person, see. can’t just be telling people you know these things.

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well, first: i love heart out now, more than i did in 2012. maybe it’s because i’ve learned how to properly listen through matty’s manchester accent, or because i really enjoy the way the video was directed and understand it  now (thanks drama directing prac). i guess because i’m older there are people who i can sing this song to and have almost every word relate to them. i’m not 14 anymore, and there are people that i  found when we were both younger much younger; people that i liked no matter what i found out about them. and now…now i sit with them after three or five or ten years of knowing them, trying to know them. still.

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the second verse always makes me laugh – it’s so very high school. it’s girls twirling their hair far too much until it tangles while talking to boys, and seeing three people in your year actively trying to mirror a girl in the year above, and that small circle of rich kids with drug problems and too much money. a reflection on their mental health? certainly.

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while i’ve (thankfully) never been addicted to cocaine and heroin, or sex, i wonder what my rocks and brown would be. what’s something i was, or am, obsessed with that most adequately reflected my mental health? perhaps how addictive my personality is to begin with and that moderation isn’t a word i can get my brain and body to understand. maybe how much i liked skins when i was 13. (that was stupid. who lets a 13 year old  with a new depression diagnosis watch skins? the internet. that’s who.) maybe my knack for self destruction by bringing other people up and quashing my need for self care? i guess i’m figuring my heart out, and figuring out what my heroin is. it makes for interesting self to self conversation.

i’ve always been good at one thing though, and that’s a lotttttta feelings. yes ma’am, that’s me, center of the feelingsverse, feels HQ – “haver of every and any feeling” is my official title. how very cancerian of me. if you’ve been around here a while, or even if this is the first post you’ve finished, i’m almost certain you can tell. i still do live in my head a massive amount. i guess…i am the adolescent on the phone; speaking like i’m bigger than my body.

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my birthday is on tuesday and i’m trying not to be scared about it but all the trying is tiring. but i don’t want to be afraid. my impulse control is non existent. i really want to take my meds every day this week but a morning dose is hard if i only muster the strength to get out of bed after noon. my room is mostly clothes and i’m tired of going shopping for my move. i hate seeing attractive boys with kind eyes because i do stupid things like repeat myself to my friends 100 times. i’m still scared that everyone who’s ever said they like me don’t, and that i’m not actually a likeable person. i think that maybe my idea that i’m good is wrong, because am i? could i really be? i have worse posture than people think – i just stand up really straight in public because it’s part of the things that i do in public. i’m so bad with money.

there it is.

/ / H E A R T   O U T / /

love and light,
shalom xo

Blogmas, Vlogmas & December In Between | Update

Aloha! I have updates and news that are 70% irrelevant to mast things concerning most people. Little things that are happening (for real this time) but before I start, I should inform you: I’m in South Africa. Snow at Christmastime is NOT a thing. Okay. Now, it begins!

  1. Blogmas & Vlogmas

Starting on December 1st, I’m going to be doing a blog-a-day until Christmas and sometimes, a little vlog too over here on my YouTube channel – you can subscribe to get first dibs! I think I low-key know that I’m only committing to Vlogmas so I have a reason to get up and shower every day. Or something. Stay tuned for my lonely December misadventures while all my friends are (a) overseas, (b) partying it up by the sea, or (c) both. Everyone is welcome to join! I think I’ll be using WeBlogWeVlog‘s Vlogmas calendar from last year – just scroll back to December 2014. Here it is too, for your added convenience:

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2. Ta, High School

I got through exams! Somehow I managed, and I don’t know how I’m going to stay sane until results day in January. In any case, a school uniform will never mandatorily adorn my body again. Bless.

3. The Series Quest

I’ve got a lot to do in terms of time wasting. For example, I’d love to watch Jessica Jones BUT I’m lucky enough to live South of the equator where Netflix doesn’t exist. Except maybe in Australia? I’m not sure. In any case, I need new series to watch, old series to finish (I see you, Game of Thrones) and something, anything, to obsess over.

That’s pretty much what December looks like for me – I hope you stick around! What does your December look like?

(That was the cheesiest, most cliche blogger ending I have ever typed out. Yeesh.)

Love and light,
Shalom

 

THE FINAL COUNTDOWN: TWO DAYS TO GO

I almost didn’t write this post.

Many more people allowed me to take photographs of them today. I now have just about 58 minutes of footage that I will have to condense into a video no longer than three minutes. Lovely.

I had many of my “lasts” today. My last Dramatic Arts lesson, my last Physical Science lesson – and in all this, we, as the matrics, were exhausted. We were too tired to register that the regular alternate Wednesdays that we’d become so accustomed to would stop existing when tomorrow comes around. We don’t think things end but they do and here we are.

We think we’re invincible. I read this post about teenagers and our attitudes towards death  and growing old, and I recommend it 100%. It talks about how we think we’re “too young to die”. On that note, listen to this Panic!At The Disco song – it’s called Far Too Young To Die and it’s perfect.

When adults say, “Teenagers think they are invincible” with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don’t know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are. We cannot be born, and we cannot die.

-John Green, Looking for Alaska

Today I felt as though I became aware that I will not be a teenager for much longer. I will not be a high schooler (?) for much longer. I will not be invincible for much longer.

Today, awards were given out based on favour rather than merit, and service, passion, and dedication of five years worth were disregarded and condensed into an A4 piece of card that may well have read, “Thanks for coming.”.

Today, I realised that there isn’t nearly enough time left to fix the wrongs we, as a class, have been faced with; to change things to the degree that they need to be changed; to leave lasting marks on walls and trophies and hearts, or to simply be.

We have always thought that we are invincible. Soon, we will learn the truth.

Love and light,
shalom

THE FINAL COUNTDOWN: 3 DAYS LEFT

I’m exhausted today.

I’m almost as exhausted as I was in the second week of this school year. I remember working so hard and SO INTENSELY that at one stage, my body was like, “Bro. Bro.  Are you serious? You really gonna do me like that?” It only lasted three months though, the hard work. I’m still exhausted.

So. Yes.

In any case, and because I am Buzzfeed TRASH, here’s a better written post than this will be: A Hundred Wise Words For Seniors Leaving For College. If you’re in matric and you read that sentence, it’s you. YOU are leaving for university soon.  As if you had to be reminded. As if the impending disaster that will be finals is not enough.

That’s it. That’s all I have today. I have tips for tertiary education and maths problems to cry about. You know which ones. The circle geometry ones. You know which ones.

Love and light
shalom x

THE FINAL COUNTDOWN: 4 DAYS LEFT

I KEEP GETTING HIT BY PANIC WAVES AND I DO NOT APPRECIATE IT

I walked around school with my camera today, and I recorded little pieces of footage that I’d like to remember. It seemed strange to a lot of the girls – after all, I was taking 20 second videos of once shiny black school shoes shuffling to class after a meeting that DID NOT NEED TO TAKE UP MY ENTIRE BREAK. Yes.

The video footage aside, I had conversations with some of the most radical ladies I have ever had the privilege of meeting and talking to. We talked, yelled, debated, and laughed about drunk adventures, whitewashing in our school, the plight of the black woman in the world that we live in, ridiculous hair regulations, and why some boys are So. Thirsty. It was brilliant, and despite the 32°C temperature (that’s 90°F?) we managed to disturb the peace and have a phenomenal time.

I got emotional and nostalgic. As expected.

It pained me to think that whether I like it or not, this week may well be the last time I get to have these conversations with these people. I think it’s a shared matric sentiment: the thought that the people who you’ve loved and lived with for more than a quarter of your life will soon go on and create new lives, often without you, is nerve wrecking. And sad. Mostly sad.

This week, if not this entire year, has made me cherish the people in my grade more than I have in a long time. The class of 2015, the ‘black badges’ – we’ve never been favourites. We’ve probably seen the most high school dropouts and caused the most trouble for all of our respective schools. 1997 (for the most part) must have been a crazy year. Just saying.

In any case, high school as a whole has provided me with a lot – bruises, failures and heartbreak, as well as conversations I’ll miss and points of view that I’ll treasure. I’m going to keep recording this week, and hopefully fewer and fewer people will shy from my lens.
Eugh. Lasts and goodbyes are hard to navigate. I’m going to pretend to study, like the rest of us.

Love and light,
shalom


featured image from http://projectgrad2015.vpweb.com/Announcements.html

THE FINAL COUNTDOWN: 5 DAYS TO GO

This is a brief lil’ post-a-day series for the next week or so regarding my last days at high school. That sounded way, way more intense than I initially intended.


So, I’m finishing high school in five days. Well, not really, but technically. See, I won’t be a student anymore -my valediction is on Thursday- but I’ll still have to come back to write my final exams for four weeks, I think. I’m not sure. All the shit is terrifying.

I keep thinking about how I’m going to deal once school is over. See, I hate school, but it’s also pretty much the only constant I have in my life. If I didn’t go school, I wouldn’t see my friends, eat, or exercise because lord knows, those stairs and my thighs have had an appointment. Also, I’m a little stressed out at the fact that nothing is concrete for me at present? Like, the majority of the students in my year have plans: Finish school. 2 month break. Get results. University. I’m kind of in between every single one of these phases, like: Finish School. Retake SAT. Find job. Work. Get results. Send results to McGill. Find out if accepted into McGill. ET CETERA.

To cut a long and particularly haphazard story short, I’m tired and terrified. I don’t know how I’m going to take this week, or why I’m not studying for finals, or what I’m going to be doing at school tomorrow. I don’t know.

Essentially, I’m just really tired, and I want cuddles and a high speed internet connection.

In a word: Ugh.

Love and light,
shalom

It Is What It Is – Academic Awards Edition

Shalom Obisie-Orlu. Scroll.

Tonight at the academic awards evening at my school, that was what was called out before I walked onto stage and received my certificate. A scroll for academic achievement. Sounds good, right? Wrong. Let me fill you in on what has been going on in the swell of tears and banging in my brain for the past hour since the event ended:

(also, hello!)

At the school I was at from 2012-June 2014, academic awards can be achieved in grade ten, eleven and twelve, under half colours or full colours. With the report I achieved last year, I would have qualified for half colours. I’m confident I would have also managed to get full colours for netball, and been a councillor, or senior leader.

Does it matter? No.

In June/July of 2014 I made a decision to transfer schools in an attempt to save myself. As dramatic as it sounds, it’s the truth. I didn’t, contrary to popular belief, get bored and move to a school where I would have (a) nothing to my name, (b) no academic reputation in the most important year of high school, and (c) an extremely tough time fitting in to school in the middle of the year.

Nobody does that because they’re bored. Nobody uproots his or her life for attention. Nobody goes through extremely depressive cycles and ridiculous application processes just for fun.

It’s NOT fun.

Today, I was presented with a scroll. A scroll is the most basic academic achievement award presentable at my new school. It’s the award that anyone can get. You get a scroll for your first year of doing well.

It’s not my first year.

I’m not smart at school but I try really hard. I used to be brilliant. It was all I had. I worked so, so hard in the most difficult school year I have ever had to endure and then, this.

I meet the criteria for half colours. I meet the criteria at two schools, for goodness’s sake! I just so happened to make a decision and I now don’t get the award I deserve in every manner of speaking,because I haven’t been at the school long enough.

Look, tonight I’ve managed to offend one of my closest friends, almost swear at my mother, cry so hard my eyes are struggling to open, held back so many outbursts, fake smiled at so many people and said so many “thank you”s that I honestly wish I meant.

Grow up, Shalom. Get a hold of yourself. You got an award! Some people didn’t get anything. Be grateful. High school isn’t everything. You’ll be done with this in ten months.

I’ve been trying to get myself to understand these things, but how can I when they so clearly contradict everything I’ve been told?

  • this is the most important most important year of your life
  • matric stays with you forever
  • you get what you work for

Not the case here. I’m also really, really angry at myself; at the fact that I can’t be 100 per cent hapy for my lovely friends who did so well. About the fact that I snapped about not getting a good enough award when my lovely friend didn’t get an award at all.

I sound like an arrogant, unsatisfied brat. I know. And I hate it when people are like this. But these are my feelings and I would never act on them for fear of hurting another person (sorry Chy). I just needed somewhere to put them.

That’s all I have o say for now. That’s all the stupid, overprivelleged, arrogant and annoying ranting you’ll have to tolerate for today. I’m terribly sorry.

 

In truth, well done to all of the award winners tonight. You deserve it. (no cynicism intended)

with love,
shalom

Matric: senior year, grade twelve, hell.

The third day of matric and I’m already exhausted.

For those of you reading from a place that isn’t South Africa, matric is the last year of high school in South Africa – grade 12.It’s the year before everyone goes off to university/home/travelling / who the frick knows. It’s the seemingly shiny senior year and it’s full of expectaitons. I don’t think I like it.

Scratch that, I most definitely don’t like it. I’ve only been back at school for three days and I want to swear at everything. EVERYTHING. It’s as if a curse word generator has been planted in my brain was set to begin work on January 14th, 2015.  I’m overwhelmed, and have more crap to do that HAS TO GET DONE than I ever have before. I’m also running  out of sticky notes.

I’m too tired to write. I’m working really hard and doing my homework (!!!) and revising (read: learning for the first time because I wasn’t paying attention when it was taught) because I have a maths test on TUESDAY. I hate maths, remember?

I got moved up in my math and Afrikaans classes because I SOMEHOW managed to do acceptably well enough to be in the same class with people who get As for these subjects. Afrikaans? Understandable. Maths? *curse word generator fires up again*

The girls in my group of friends are ALL DIETING for the Matric Dance in May (Prom?) and it’s driving me nuts – I almost force-fed Mouse some chocolate –her birthday present– during a strange break.

Inappropriate puns have taken over my brain. My list of books to read has grown SO much and I’m extremely disappointed in myself because I’m already so busy, and there is no way I’m going to get to read them all when I want to.

I got yelled at for having an afro at school, because my natural hair –I REPEAT, NATURAL HAIR– doesn’t comply with school regulations because it isn’t flat. The biggest amount of — *CURSE WORDS EXTRAVAGANZA*

There is not enough time. Barely a week in, and bam- burnout.

On the plus side, we are studying my favourite  novel in English (The Great Gatsby) and we did the Charleston at the end of the day to get usinto the spirit of the 20s. It was fricken’ rad.


This year may well kill me.

2015, you ridiculous, rude, burdensome, distracting, lying, hopeful, promising bastard of a year.

love and sheer, sheer exhaustion,
shalom

Scoot On ~ why I probably SHOULD shut up

Oh hey! No,I’m kidding. But hi anyway!

So if you’ve been following this blog for a while, you’ll know that here in South Africa, it’s exam season. In three weeks or so, I’ll be writing on pieces of paper that determine how much I’m worth until I’m out of school. It sucks that the only way our intelligence at school is measured is based solely on how well we follow instructions from another person or do exactly as they say without questioning anything. School is actually really difficult, and you know, I think that the only thing I’m certain of is that

THE MITOCHONDRIA IS THE POWERHOUSE OF THE CELL

Thanks, Mrs Moloney (6th grade Natural Science teacher).

Today, while sitting with a group of girls and doing the chit-chat thing, I realised something several times : I’m in the business of saying things that shouldn’t be said. I don’t know how to phrase that any better, but I suck at timing and my facial expressions really are beyond my control.  Off the top of my head, here’s three:

  • ” I’m going to be a little late for the meeting at break…I’m doing the thing with that girl in the bathroom.”

WHAT? I just had to go to the bathroom,but that came out of my mouth instead. I wish it hadn’t because I’m almost 300% certain that my deputy headmistress was behind me.

  • History teacher:” Are you sleeping in my class? You’d better have a good reason for this.”

ME:*looks around nervously* “I’m so sorry, I just–I — THERE ARE BOYS IN MY HEAD AND I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF THEM, YOU WOULDN’T UNDERSTAND”

I have no explanation for this. I can’t justify myself. I feared momentarily that I was going to re-enter the “I’m so random” phase, which was by far THE WORST to ever possess our generation. I don’t know, I’m still apologising to myself. And to everyone who had to witness it.

  • “I’ll chi chi your hua hua if you don’t stop”

Real talk,this human wouldn’t stop talking about their dog teddy bear thing from old/new/imaginary boyfriend. For real, it’s great to talk about things that make you happy like a teddy, but if that’s all you talk about, we’ll have a problem. I think I’ll stop here before I (a) fail physics, (b) make myself more potentially unhireable than I am, and (c) type more garbage.

embarrassment is said to build character. I sure damn hope so.

All my love,

-Scoot xx


YOUTUBE CHANNEL IN DECEMBER

S-a-t-u-r-d-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa-y

Aloha, Scootonerinos!

That, friends, was a Louise SprinkleOfGlitter referenece. I think I’m starting a Youtuber greetings pattern here.

I’ve been really busy, and it’s quite ridiculous seeing that the things I’m busy with are little things that should not take too long to complete. Except if there are exactly 43 million of those little things that follow you everywhere. I’m not kidding, this grade eleven thing follows me into the shower  (don’t forget your physics assignment), into the bathtub (did you really think that your essay was due tomorrow?), under the blankets (oh, yeah, that rehearsal is today), and even in my tea. My schoolwork is working its way into my tea, and I can’t drink a hot beverage without thinking about the fact that I have an anthology due in two weeks.

On the topic of the anthology:

How it  works: You’re given free range on topics and you have to choose one that (a) you enjoy, (b) you can relate to, and (c) you pray you’ll finish. The project is assigned in January and is due in August. You have to write a preface of  1000 words, compile 3 songs, poems, fiction extracts and non fiction extracts, and write your own original poem, all related to your topic. The reading takes a while. The writing takes longer.

How it works for me: I only have to do one of each category, seeing that I joined the school about one and a half months ago. It’s a pleasure to do – my title is Life, Interrupted. It’s about fully functioning in a ‘functional’ society while living with mental illness. IT’S EXCITING. It’s also due on September 15th, the same day as a speech for Drama, and the week after my history project is due.

ABOUT HISTORY AT THIS SCHOOL

I’ve never failed a test. Okay, that’s a lie. I’ve failed math tests before, but that’s because I’m usually horribly useless at the numbers game, except if it’s the maths used to create the graphs John Green made use of in the novel, An Abundance of Katherines. You can read about it here. I failed a history test at my new school, and I’m not blaming it on adjustment issues or whatever. The thing is: I don’t fail history. EVER. I failed thoroughly though, not a half-assed fail. 19/50.  38%. THIRTY EIGHT.

After a discussion with my teacher (generally knows what’s in the textbook and doesn’t know much other than that) and the head of department (knows stuff and seems to love history a lot) they concluded the following:

  1. I haven’t been taught to think in the correct way
  2. I have a limited vocabulary
  3. My old school must have had a low standard of teaching

Problems I have with their observations:

  1. what?
  2. what?!?!????
  3. oh hell no – what??

Yeah, that happened on Thursday and I’ve never been so angry in my life. I don’t think I have – I even cried (?) so I think that that’s an experience that I’m forever going to hold with me. Hopefully, my resentful sentiments change with time – like 20 years of it.

In other news: I HAVE 15 MOTHS LEFT OF HIGH SCHOOL!

Today is also day 100 of my #100happydays challenge. I’m having very mixed emotions about it. It’s also also my smallest little sister’s 13th birthday today! That’ll take some of the attention off and I’m truly grateful for that. This is her on the day I got Getrude (laptop). Selfie game level 43 000: taking the first pictures on a new computer that isn’t yours.

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I’m tired, people (and anything else reading this – there is a Dog with a Blog so we can’t be discriminating here). It’s 1:18 in the morning and I fixed the printer and have a planner for September (?). Here we go!
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Later/whatever/other teenagerism

-Scoot xx