#high school reflections

[vesperbryan]

The First Day of High School

What surprised me most?

High school tastes like plastic.

The smooth, gasoline acid of sticky polymers,

Coating my mouth like sugar,

Spoiling, rotting there,

Until every taste became plastic too.

It tasted like my magenta breakfast bowl,

The brownish cereal-cream cooking in the kitchen lights,

Until I gulped it down,

Ruining the illusion of hardening glue.

It tasted like the industrial stairs, coated in that dotted plastic mat.

It gave just so slightly as I padded to the top floor.

It nodded as I first met those eyes.

The smell of antiseptic on my nose, the taste of sweetest plastic on my tongue.

It tasted like my black binder, its spine, clay,

As I molded the classroom into a home.

With the blackboard as my sky,

The fluorescent lights my moon, I dreamt.

It tasted like the fresh-cut grass and rain-coat leather of a soccer ball.

My hairline screaming in its ponytail,

A thousand glittering eyes watching my every play.

The plastic never faded,

And I doubt it ever will.

[lfrog13]

Do you ever look back on high school and remember things people said and did and all these wonderful comebacks you could have said and just silently stew in fury as you wish you could turn back the clock and rip some assholes a new one? because i do.

[elliotsramblings]

Belonging

I graduated from high school almost a month ago. Looking back on these past four years, I'm not really sure what I managed to accomplish. Average grades, several failed executive board bids, zero participation in classes; I didn't really offer anything of value to my school. All of that I can look past without a second thought. What strikes me as most interesting, however, is that in four years of high school, I never managed to settle down with one group of friends. I never found my happy little clique. Instead, I bounced around between the different groups of people like a leaf blowing about in the wind. You might find me with the tech kids one day, the math people the next. Maybe I'll be a basketball court with the jocks, or on my laptop, Skyping with the gamers. I'm not sure I ever belonged to any of these groups, nor did I ever feel like any of these groups particularly needed me as a member. I never doubted that they enjoyed my presence, but I never felt like any group viewed me as a necessary person to have around. But I guess the blame is on me for never really finding out who I am. Maybe I should have just chosen one group and invested all of my time with them. Instead, I stretched myself thin bouncing about between everyone. Hopefully, I'll be able to discover who I really am while at college. It would suck to have a repeat of high school for the next four years.

[love-mena]

Exposed: Reflection.

Growing up, was not easy. I've always been overweight, a little more weird, and quite oblivious.  A little misunderstood.

When I was 6, someone told me it would be "okay" to "hug" and "wrap" me; A child at 6, who knew nothing more than Arthur and Barney, was forced to grow up.

At 9, they pointed and words of hate poured. 

I moved, we moved. Different place, same story. 

10. We moved, I moved. Again. Here we are in San Jose. 

Thinking, "fresh start, new life," yet my life was on repeat. I wanted to press hold, but something was missing from my life. 

Regardless of the hate, I wanted to push through. I wanted to embrace it, rather than go against it. I tried my best to stay afloat, even if all people did was cowardly talk, point, judge, and blame. 

Somewhere along the way, I cracked. Maybe I let my past make me bitter, rather than improve me better. Maybe I was insecure. Maybe I was insecure, with being insecure. Maybe I wasn't happy, or energetic, or happy, or kind, or loving, or caring, or happy, or happy, or happy, or fucking happy, like everyone thought. 

I only tried. 

Freshmen year, high school, I fell in love. A boy who was a dork, kind, goofy, imperfect, and my best friend. At the time, I wanted to say something, but I couldn't. Insecure? Maybe.  Did it matter? No. Why? Because it was never me.  I had the courage to tell him. I wanted to risk, "getting hurt." Stupid me.  Did it matter? No, Why? Because when I turned around, he was in love with someone else.  Who? My friend. 

I never meant to hurt anyone, or did the things I did. I truly was happy for both, at the start. Somewhere along the way, maybe I had known where that was headed. But, maybe part of me wanted a chance. 

Stupid me. 

Stupid, fucking, me. 

No excuses. I admit it all. My fault. My imperfections. My choices. 

A kiss and a little more resulted to a slap, a backstabber, a broken heart, a broken relationship, and an unfaithful boyfriend. 

I couldn't. I shouldn't have. 

Guilt, misery, depression, suicide. 

Imperfect. Tired. Alone.

I changed schools. 

You would think I learned my lesson. Ha.  "Don't make the same mistakes twice."  Even if the relationship was broken, maybe I shouldn't have let him back in.  Not once, not twice, not even three times. Three years mounted to complicated feelings, stupid teens, ugly hardships, bad decisions, on repeat. 

But it wasn't all bad. If I was the me then, maybe I would have done the same things. But the me now, is different. I know better  now. I made mistakes, and the course wasn't easy. I wouldn't know what I know now, if it wasn't for the mistakes I made in the past. If it wasn't for the hardships I went through, maybe I wouldn't have felt this way now. 

It was stupid. I was young. It was stupid, I was in love  Is this good enough? Maybe not.  But do I care anymore? Maybe. Maybe not. 

I changed schools. Joined clubs. Became ASB President. Became involved in my community. Became officers for clubs. Joined a church youth group. Made new friends. Got to know other people. Kept in touch with old friends. Got help, and changed. 

It's been 3-4 years. Times have changed. People have moved on. I should to. No, I already have. 3 years, I've held it in. I felt guilt. I felt bad. But, now, I'm just proud. 

Proud that I'm still here. Made the memories I have with the people I care and care about me. Proud that I'm not that girl back freshmen year. Proud that I can see how fortunate I am. Proud that maybe I do still care a little about what others think but know that what I think of myself matters more Proud that I'm not perfect. Proud that I am me. I am happy with myself. 

I might not be the smartest, most kind,  genuine, have a slim waist, or anything you like. But, I am okay with that. I will constantly change, and become better. I will always work harder, 

A year ago I was brokenhearted. Two years ago, on this day, I was brokenhearted. Three years ago,  I made a mistake. 

Today, I am happy.

As long as I am,okay with the me I am, then that's all that matters. 

And I am. 

[jellieejay]

Graduation. Not happening yet, but why not flashback a bit?

The underlying point of the entire conversation, which lasted for quite some time, is that just be yourself and pretty much go with the flow. Things will happen when they happen; don't try to force it too much.

Sure, that's easy to say, but despite all the inspirational throw up everyone likes to spew, it's really difficult. Sometimes I think one of my bigger regrets about high school is that I didn't put myself out there and make enough friends. All through elementary and middle school, I was as shy as a turtle. And even though I've come out of my shell, I'm still shy.

But I'm happy where I am. I hear my friends talking about how some girls are just so fake and pretend to be nice so people will like them. I can't say I know how it feels to do that, but I imagine that keeping a mask up when I really dislike that person is a lot of hard work. 

Like my friend says, "It's okay to hate people." 

The thing to remember is that don't let your emotions control you. Be impulsive, be calculative, be whatever you want to be, but sometimes, emotions can be detrimental to you socially, mentally, and biologically. 

My other regrets are pretty shallow, like having not joined the tennis team at school or not getting more involved in community service, or spending more effort in partaking in art competitions. But those are still things I can do past high school. 

Now the only thing to do is wait for my acceptance, or god forbid--rejection, letters. 

[fatsplat-blog]

Day 3;; Homecoming- what it meant to you and your memories of it

I never went to homecoming. 

Heeh. :D

[teaforstephanie-blog]

what i've learned

Looking back at old high school photos, I reminiscence about how much I obsessed over wanting a boyfriend. It was almost as if I vied to have a boy woven into my identity, because I could not fathom any other way to be happy.

If I have a boyfriend I will be complete. I will be confident because I will know that a guy wants me, and no one else.

So I aggressively pursued it, and just on the brink of graduation, it happened. It happened when I had just given up, after several rejections from guys I hardly knew (I really had NO idea what I was doing). It was a good experience, one that taught me valuable lessons going forward, and although it was hardly what I expected, what is in life?

I suppose what I am trying to say is that relationships can be wonderful experiences, but they should not, in my opinion, be the basis of one's existence. Never lose sight of yourself and your identity. You can, and will survive as an independent girl/guy and that person will come around when you least expect it!