Well... not sure how blogs go. First off, I guess, I'll just write whatever's on my mind. Like a personal journal of sorts? For everyone available on the Internet to view.
So today in Latin II class, our new semester teacher (the first year teacher was let off for budget reasons and the last semester's retired) has been really friendly, straightforward with teaching, and is all around a nice teacher. Gets the job done, but not in a too fun way, so everyone stays focused. Well today, today my only friend in the class, let's call him Z, came to sit by me for the funnies and lolz on the internetz. I showed him a funny reddit post , right before the teacher started talking, and I didn't quite pay attention. And so I did a stupid little chuckle-giggle (something that guys can be ashamed of), and my friend (like a good friend) tried to get me to pay attention to the teacher. Too late. She looked me in the eyes and scolded me, though I hadn't caught any of the words (when someone starts a sentence towards me after just approaching me, I usually ask "what?" first because of force-of-habit but also because I can't catch a word they're saying; people talk too fast for my comfort, and they think even faster (I'm a fast thinker, just slow when it comes to speaking and socializing)). And so she continues speaking, me wondering what she had told me, when she said, "Z, if you're going to sit in a different seat, please face forward. I don't want you talking to Jas."
Now that hit me. Don't know why.
For a split second, a split second, I felt depressed and wanted to cry (maybe an internal conflict that wants me to make friends and speak more often? pronounce my words more carefully? bash out against my most despised enemies?), but I instantly got over it. What the hell is with that, you might ask? Well, I have unusual fits that last only a split second because I have no control over emotions. I'm always stoic, maybe laughing, but you need a damn good joke to hear my real laugh. And to make me smile from happiness, you've gotta do something inhumanly happy to make me smile a real smile, where my eyes scrunch up a bit from my smile, instead of my half-butt job of a mundane smile that I do when 'laughing'.
Now, take it, I currently have about fourteen friends in my life. There's A, Z, I, X, J, B, ... wait... huh. Well so I currently have about six friends, but only one of them have I ever really been on great terms for a long time with. He's my bro, he's stupid with girls and stuff, but his political stance is kick-butt awesome. He's the kind of guy that might stalk a girl, honestly, but he's right on line with politics, and our opinions about almost everything but religion are right on line, too. He also never has patience, but I tell him that it's a virtue, so they say.
Did I mention Enderman? Yeah, Enderman's my stuffed friend. As in stuffed animal. But he's a manly stuffed animal. So it's not girly. ... I talk to Enderman randomly, but more like talking to myself. It's nice to have a friend that gives you minutes upon end to think, and let's you bash out all those bad thoughts. The little guy is like an unrecorded personal journel. Not diary. 'Cause none of this is feminine in any way. ... Yeah, I know, I have the potential to be a serial killer. At least I don't have voices in my head... or do I... ?
Yeah, it's sad in your perspective, I guess, but it's my life. I really freaking love my life. If I could spend a week away from people and only with my computer, unlimited paper and pencil, some food and drink, a bathroom, a bed, and an internet connection, I would be happy. Well, actually, that's honestly just me on the weekends... except when I talk to best friend.1070Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡL8Plr0V1ji
Also, Second Semester Latin II Teacher, I am utterly offended that you would think I talk. I speak through "huh", "hm", "mhm", "hey", Internet images, stupid giggles manly chuckles, mundane smiles, nods, body language, and sometimes sentences or a few hundred paragraphs worth of speaking (although I have no idea to react when someone, educated or uneducated, responds to my debate-like conversations, though uneducated is just painful to hear that they didn't understand a word I was speaking (so I like making maps, okay?! I call it cartography, but you can call it something your mind can process! I like speaking casually but also professionally, and I will speak as I will!)). How silly you would think so low high of me.
And here I am, typing this during the last few minutes of Latin II class period and the beginning of U.S. History class period. Good thing I finished the classwork early to type this all.
Well, this has been fun. （＾ｖ＾）
ns 15.158.61.54da2
