Here is a totally bullshit essay I turned into my philosophy teacher,
I am a conflict seeker; I
frequently say inflammatory statements specifically for a reaction. It is
selfish but I live for myself not for anyone else.
I should begin this with saying I am
not depressed. I am rarely ever even mopey. What I am going to intend to be in
frank in my assessment of the next fourteen years of my life. Not to echo
Rachel Scott too much but: I am going to die young. I have already explored my
fear of the uncertain death in my vampirism journal. I have to think logically,
a backup plan is necessary, if I do not become a vampire, I refuse to grow old.
I refuse to age, grow up. I never want to live to see a mid-life crisis, let
alone when your gums give way and you lose your teeth and grow incontinent.
I have known how I will die since the
fifth grade. Suicide, an ugly wave of fear and disdain follow this word. But
truly it is control over the uncontrollable. 30. That is the outward bound of
my life. I refuse to see 31 winters come to pass. I have received nearly as
many angry retorts and passionate pleas as I have told about my plan. I would
never force someone to find me. Plus hanging, overdose, guns; clichéd endings.
I am going to go out with a bang, the last moments of my life should be as
exciting as all the years I spent alive. A hot-air balloon ride gone awry, so
far awry that I land in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and then either die on
impact or meet my favorite animal, the shark.
Now I understand that people can live
happy after 30, but all I can see is death it is so imminent so close. I don’t
want to have lose control on my own body, my own destiny. I want to be good, as
in “only the good die young”. My grandparents are in their eighties and I see
them losing memory, sight, independence, Etc. My parents are in their 50’s,
back pain, hot flashes, joint pain, balding, etc. People in their forties just
try and act like they’re younger or they accept that they are dying. TOO DEPRESSING
for me, I am not that strong.
Now the most unoriginal largely
rhetorical question, as people try and talk me out of the one thing I know the
most about, is “What are you going to do about your husband? Your kids? Your
other friends and family?” Well that is a very simple answer. Husband: Won’t
have one… I’m gay. The obvious argumentative question would subsequently be:
Well what about your wife/girlfriend? I am a largely anti-social being, I am
sociable in school but every smile and laugh is only skin deep, I hold little
to no affection for anyone. It’s not quite apathy, I just don’t care about
anyone enough to have a long standing relationship with them.
The
second part of the question is kids: I will never have one. I teach kids to
swim, I babysit all the time. I hate them. They are permanently sticky, messy,
argumentative, rude, and generally they lack empathy and are soulless. I do not
consider the people in my grade higher than my previous description. I lack any
maternal instinct, when people ask me “Do you want to hold the baby?” I make up
illnesses to ensure I will not have to touch them. Many people like or can
tolerate kids, otherwise the human race would have died out a long time ago,
and deity bless them.
Lastly, Friends: for the most part the
only person who I care about and will in fact leave all my money to, is my
brother, my absolute best friend honestly my only friend. He will receive an
email reminder, but he knows. He understands me enough to know that I am a
stubborn obstinate person that will not bend my will to anyone’s discretion or
order. He is my only friend because he is me, its uncanny. He is the male
version of me and thusly I have to love him, because I love myself.
‘Friends’ to me are a means to an end,
everyone is. I spin webs and amuse myself regardless of circumstance which
might make my slightly psychotic but names can be hurtful. I get asked by these
time markers if maybe I want to room with them in college or that they will
babysit my kids later in life, I almost gag; I do not want to know any of these
people in my later life. I understand that for most people (seemingly) that
they crave the love and devotion that friendship brings. But they are ties,
dragging you down holding you immobile as you age.
In the end, only the good die young.
I will leave the world better than I found it, and yes I could probably have a
greater impact on the world if I lived longer, but the world would have a
greater impact on me; I refuse to go out a different person than when I went
in.
GRADE:
A-, I suppose…
HAH
LOTS OF LOVE
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