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

On Faltering Hopes and Broken Promises

People with money who pay for all your things while you’re a minor. Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without them. Unfortunately.

Whether your parent(s), your siblings, or whoever your caretaker is, someone always seems to let you down. Some more than others. Some promise you a trip to the mall and don’t let you know that they’re broke so you cant actually get anything. Some cancel said trip without letting you know. Some encourage you to get scholarships for high school and university options, and then flat out refuse to send you. Some encourage you to work really really hard at school, and take external tests and apply for all the universities that you want to…and then refuse to answer you when you ask about fees. Et cetera. I am angry. Et cetera.

My father is an important man. He’s influential and intelligent. People think he’s a good father too. (False.) But him -he source of 89% of my anger, sadness and frustration- aside, I’ve been trying to figure out how this life thing is going to work if people who hold such weighty claims over my life keep not coming through. As in, they just continue to leave promises unfulfilled and  leave me unable to plan any further than two months into the future. As in, I’m finishing high school in 10 weeks or so, and I have no idea if what I want is possible, or even plausible because my future doesn’t merit that kind of discussion, “it’s not [my] problem”, and because I should expect magic to happen and for my life to fall into a place along with fifty thousand dollars. Obviously.

College is expensive. This is a fact. Uni in South Africa is great, and the standards are great, and it’s all wonderful and cheaper but it’s not what I’ve been working towards since 2012. I was told then that if I worked hard and did well in my SATs, I could go back to the US for college. I got keen. I got down to business to defeat the huns. (Sneaky Mulan ref.) I fell in love with cities (hello, Iowa City) and universities all over the world (Buckinghamshire New University, I see you). I threw myself at schools (Hi, Bethel College!) and settled on a place that was more academically sound and in a super diverse city (Montreal. Hi. Yes.). And then, like everything else I’ve ever been invested in, it got snatched away because someone changed his mind.

Not this time.

There’s a lot I can take, but playing around with my future to this extent is a no-no. Closer to a hell no, no way on heaven or earth or in hell or in a parallel universe, but it’s a no.

Same, Simon. It's a no from me, too.

Same, Simon. It’s a no from me, too.

So, student loans are happening. Jobs are happening. Savings are happening. Selling shit is happening. Because I’m getting out of here next year, and I’m going to Canada with someone I love, and I’m making this happen. Whether the money giver gives or not, it’s happening.

I’m ferociously bitter. Also, my mom told me not to put my feelings on the internet. (Sorry mom.)

Love and light
Shalom

one month later|connect

a pep talk for julyIn all honesty, I’m completely clueless how to go about writing this post. In actual fact, I’m not entirely sure about how this sentence will go; I’m just hoping it turns out okay by the end. Phew. Seems satisfactory.

I’ll be writing a post every day of July this ye– oh, wait: where have you heard that before? Yes. Here. Where NaBloPoMo and NaNoWriMo were both embarrassingly attempted by me. Well, I’ll be doing it. Again. Not the embarrassing part though. I thoroughly intend to finish!

This year’s theme is connect, as you can tell by the snazzy little badge I’ve snagged in the sidebar, and I’m pretty keen to find out what kind of trash (and hopefully, some non-trash) I’ll be spewing for a month. That…that there is a vivid image. Good job, Shalom.

ONTO THE FIRST POST! I haven’t updated this blog in almost exactly a month, and there are many reasons and excuses I could give. June is exam month in South Africa and every day from June 5th onward was a horrible practical joke. At least I hope it was. If it wasn’t, my physics and chemistry exams will let me know (THEY WENT HORRIBLY LIKE BURN THE REPORT CARD BEFORE YOUR MOTHER SEES IT HORRIBLY). Also, I’ve been going through the 7th Annual Birthday Existential Crisis, because I’m ageing soon.

“Gosh, Scoot, you’re so dramatic.”
Yes. Yes I am.

I am also very, very panicked about being older. (If you missed the 6th ABEC, you can catch yourself up here.) I tend to shrink into myself more than I do when I’m alone during this time of year (which is an awful lot, I’ll have you know), so connecting, in a word, becomes difficult. The ABEC forces me to find new ways to deal with things that I’m perfectly equipped to during any time of the year apart from the days between June 20th and July 10th.

I suppose that the extensive number of emails I’ve sent out to American universities (HELLO Bethel College and University of Iowa thank you for replying always except when you don’t :)) counts as some form of connecting- I haven’t failed completely at that.

Worry not friends – I ensure you (at least I hope to everything) that every July post will not be as anxiety ridden and angst filled as I currently am. I feel like I’ll come around. The thing about me, about the things I go through-about the depression and the anxiety and the eating and the school- is that I always get through. I don’t know how, but I do. And I like to think that I always will.

In the words of Luigi:Here we go!

yours, shalom