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Gah!
Okay, the following is going to be a rant. I'm posting this here, because most of my IRL friends on Gaia know me well enough and aren't the ones that "OMG FLUFFY ::stalk stalk stalk obsess::" I'm not in the mood for their sympathy. I just need to get this off my chest before I explode. No, I'm not emo. No, this is not for attention. No, I don't give a flying ********. This is just to vent to more than a bloody word document. I hope the group of friends I hold closest can handle that. And please excuse the vulgarity, but I'm on the verge of exploding here.
So today, it's 11 o'clock. Practices is about to start soon and Mrs. Thompson calls me to the back of the theater. I had went to Mrs. Russel to try and drop AP History at the marking period like a few other nameless people had done. No, you're a freak, you suck wait 'til semester 'cause you're not special enough. Basically, the other people were dropping to preserve their precious ******** four-point. I'm in going to be re-classified. I see their priority.
Anywho, that little meeting made a bleep on the radar. Now, it's open season. Fluffy = death. All 7 of my teachers and Mrs. Russle had a meeting this morning. Because I'm failing 5 classes. Which, I admit, is my own god-damn fault. Yes, I blow.
Now the part that ******** pisses me off was the out come of this little meeting. The highest grade I have, which happens to be the only A+ I've had since General Science freshman year is PPC. Practically, the messiah of my GPA. So they say they're kicking me out of PPC. Beautiful. That's a great idea. "He needs credits so we'll kick him out of the class he's passing!" [******** brilliant!
I'll admit. I'm still not a happy person. Ever since the ungodly emo-ness of Freshman year. I just pretend to be, try to fool my self into thinking the mind-over-matter bullshit works. Pretend to be happy because any one who isn't is just crying out like a whiny little ******** attention whore.
So, how does one cope? Theatre. My only escape that consists of more than 0's and 1's. "Let's take that away." I'm ready to ******** snap!
Funny, how when you need the system most, they just tell you to bend over so they can further the a** rape. Just like Freshman year. I get bullied in school, so they suspend me. Because I'm a dangerous threat. Yeah... right. Because I'm sooooo deadly. I was the god damned victim, and they suspend me! This year, I go to them for help and now they're going to take away the one class I'm good at. The one ******** class I'm not failing. The thing I excel at. [******** them!
I've had it. Something more than a data stream coming through my speakers, or a virtual existence. The one thing I've had to fall back on consistently since I was a Freshman. I've been able to express myself as more than just what people wanted of me there. And now they want to take that away too. Like it'll ******** help.
Seriously, I've never been this close to just dropping out. Even after a letting as much of the anger and s**t out as I could, I feel like just strangling something. I've already added two new holes in the wall and I seriously think I ******** up my knuckle. It was like it all came washing over me, crashing down at once.
But, damn it, I'm not gonna take this. I'm sick of just bending over with a sign above me "insert your strap-on-of-compensation here," and keeping silent. I'm going to fight this one. No more of this push-over, all bark bullshit. I've always been silent when the chips are down, a faint trace of faith that it'll all work out in the end. ******** chance, fate, god: what ever the ******** hell you want to call it. I'm taking this one in my own hands, if it means dropping out entirely. I'm not going to stand silent!
Dammit! I will not go through this again.
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