holy shit no way i am posting a new blog. and it is a long one
It is not often that I write. Most of the time every emotion, thought, idea or whatever is kept bottled up inside my skull, to be later released in small bursts that take the shape of cynical rants, photo projects, paintings, days spent snowboarding on my own, and hours spent surfing trying to find that one perfect wave that will make me forget about everything going on.
I blame a lot of this on my childhood, my relationship with my brother, my isolated experience in boarding school, and even occasionally on my inability to trust other people, but that just circles back around to my childhood. I grew up in great house with very caring parents, but until very recently I have had no relationship with either. My dad traveled the world, and worked very long, and sometimes international hours when I was growing up, and my mom was a teacher, and was very busy with her work. This left me alone. I grew up outdoors, exploring the nature preserve behind my house, riding bikes, going on hikes, and sledding in the winters; of course this all changed when I moved to Singapore.
I had maybe one friend before I moved to Singapore, and of course being the new kid in school, with an older brother who wanted nothing more than to fit in. He instantly realized that his ticket to immediate popularity was humiliating me publicly. He took every opportunity to point out some quirk, flaw or any other humiliating characteristic about me, whether it be true, or made up, Most of the time they took the shape of the latter. While this created endless friendships for him, it ruined every opportunity I had for creating a new life and developing friendships. So another four years, friendless and alone.
My reception upon moving back to Connecticut was worse than I could have ever expected it to be. Singapore has no MTV, VH1, Comedy Central or other pop culture including rap music, the Rodney King trial, the shooting of Tupac or the Notorious B.I.G. To say the least, I was out of touch with everything going on in America. I walked back into the school I left four years before, with everyone a little bit older, and with hardly anyone remembering who I was. I again fell into the new kid role, even though I knew all of the other kids in my grade, and the grade below. To say the least I was not popular. Girls never danced with me at the dances, I never went to the movies with anyone, the only times I ever went to the mall were with my mom shopping for my clothes or because she didn't want me home alone.
In 8th grade I had opportunity to apply to go to boarding school, this process is much like the process of seeking out and applying for college, the SSAT needs to be taken; interviews and tours need to be arranged and then the application letters come. Those little envelopes that change so very much so very quickly, one letter, one inflection changes everything, they never say no in the first line, its always in the middle of the first paragraph somewhere, but it is never phrased quite so simply, its always a little bit drawn out, and designed to soften the blow. Long story short I got into one school.
For the first time in a very long time I was excited, genuinely. I don't know if I should include this because of who may potentially read what I am writing right now, and because I don't know if I want to think about it again, but whatever here goes, I didn't think about who thought what about me, I didn't care what girl didn't like me, what the current rumor about me was, or anything, and for the first time in a while I didn't feel like the only way I might actually feel something in my life, or escape from the hell that I lived in every day, was taking a razor blade to my left bicep and feeling the pain slip between my fingers; this was never about ending my life, it was just an escape.
part 2 - high school and beyond coming soon
It is not often that I write. Most of the time every emotion, thought, idea or whatever is kept bottled up inside my skull, to be later released in small bursts that take the shape of cynical rants, photo projects, paintings, days spent snowboarding on my own, and hours spent surfing trying to find that one perfect wave that will make me forget about everything going on.
I blame a lot of this on my childhood, my relationship with my brother, my isolated experience in boarding school, and even occasionally on my inability to trust other people, but that just circles back around to my childhood. I grew up in great house with very caring parents, but until very recently I have had no relationship with either. My dad traveled the world, and worked very long, and sometimes international hours when I was growing up, and my mom was a teacher, and was very busy with her work. This left me alone. I grew up outdoors, exploring the nature preserve behind my house, riding bikes, going on hikes, and sledding in the winters; of course this all changed when I moved to Singapore.
I had maybe one friend before I moved to Singapore, and of course being the new kid in school, with an older brother who wanted nothing more than to fit in. He instantly realized that his ticket to immediate popularity was humiliating me publicly. He took every opportunity to point out some quirk, flaw or any other humiliating characteristic about me, whether it be true, or made up, Most of the time they took the shape of the latter. While this created endless friendships for him, it ruined every opportunity I had for creating a new life and developing friendships. So another four years, friendless and alone.
My reception upon moving back to Connecticut was worse than I could have ever expected it to be. Singapore has no MTV, VH1, Comedy Central or other pop culture including rap music, the Rodney King trial, the shooting of Tupac or the Notorious B.I.G. To say the least, I was out of touch with everything going on in America. I walked back into the school I left four years before, with everyone a little bit older, and with hardly anyone remembering who I was. I again fell into the new kid role, even though I knew all of the other kids in my grade, and the grade below. To say the least I was not popular. Girls never danced with me at the dances, I never went to the movies with anyone, the only times I ever went to the mall were with my mom shopping for my clothes or because she didn't want me home alone.
In 8th grade I had opportunity to apply to go to boarding school, this process is much like the process of seeking out and applying for college, the SSAT needs to be taken; interviews and tours need to be arranged and then the application letters come. Those little envelopes that change so very much so very quickly, one letter, one inflection changes everything, they never say no in the first line, its always in the middle of the first paragraph somewhere, but it is never phrased quite so simply, its always a little bit drawn out, and designed to soften the blow. Long story short I got into one school.
For the first time in a very long time I was excited, genuinely. I don't know if I should include this because of who may potentially read what I am writing right now, and because I don't know if I want to think about it again, but whatever here goes, I didn't think about who thought what about me, I didn't care what girl didn't like me, what the current rumor about me was, or anything, and for the first time in a while I didn't feel like the only way I might actually feel something in my life, or escape from the hell that I lived in every day, was taking a razor blade to my left bicep and feeling the pain slip between my fingers; this was never about ending my life, it was just an escape.
part 2 - high school and beyond coming soon
can i send you a kiss from italy?