Dear Journal,
Oh. Well that just happened. I am still in
the process of importing all the information that just happened into my brain,
so please stand by. Lets just go to where it begun. It all started in fourth
period homeroom…
I was happily picking up all of my papers
and books sprawled out across by desk along with my five inch binder with is a
chore to pick up. Despite the small negativities, I was having a good day. The
way I see the world depends on the mood I am in. And today the entire world was
vibrant. Warm shades of orange and tan drowned my sightline. Copper pennies
reflecting light, bright orange sweaters that were what I was paying attention
to. I can ignore the cracking paint on the walls and the other unimportant
details. And then the lovely Tuck walks up to me. Tuck and I don’t typically
get along. I don’t think we even fit under the category of acquaintances! There
were multiple instances where I could have possibly aggravated him, but he
aggravated me! For example, one time we got into a debate over my use of the
word, “OD,” which is slang for "over-doing
(it)", "to do something to EXTREMES", "to go crazy with
something." Moving on, he approaches me with that idiotic smirk of his and
says, “Hey Chloe! I invented a new disease!” My eyebrows shoot up like a
skyscraper, and I know I should just walk away. Plus, you cannot simply
“invent” a disease! But instead, I say, “Okay... what is it?” and he replies,
“Its called EbolAIDS!” My eyebrows have extended past the skyscraper point and
are on the clouds. “What-what is EbolAIDS?” I say, preparing myself for his
revolting answer. “It’s when someone with Ebola has sex with someone with
AIDS.” I clam my mouth shut to prevent myself from going on a long rant. At
this point in time my eyebrows are on mars. I grimly open my mouth just to be
interrupted. “Get it? Ebola? AIDS?” I got it all right. I was just about ready
to walk out so I could enjoy my lunch in peace, but my alter ego decided
otherwise. It somehow took control of my mouth, and began. “Do you know how
disrespectful that is? That is so rude! There are people in this world
suffering and dying but it’s really funny when a thirteen year old jokes about
it right?” I was then cut off by Tuck. “Calm yourself. Its just a joke.” I
ignored his remark and miserably continued. “What about cancer? You would never
joke about cancer. But Ebola is hilarious.” His friend chimed in, “Nobody was
talking about cancer.” I rolled my eyes and snapped, “I am trying to compare
Ebola to something you can relate to.” “Don’t be that guy.” He snorts in
response. I can feel my anger about to spillover, but before I utter a sour
word I turn away, and finally walk away. I should have walked away in the first
place. The world feels warm again. I feel relived. Why did I make it my
responsibility to set the straight? I shook away the negative thoughts and
scurried off to meet my friends for Dumplings
and Things.
While
writing this I was reliving the emotions I felt while it actually happened. It
was very interesting to write. Although it wasn’t very funny at the time, it is
kind of funny now looking back on it. It isn’t funny what the kind said, but
the levels of ignorance were so high I can’t help but snicker. Who knew someone
could be so inconsiderate to something like this? It gets to a point where you
can’t help but laugh.
I find that a great issue
within the teenage society is cutting. I believe that a lot of kids are
insecure. They are stuck with labels. They can’t figure out how to get them
off. These labels consist of things like prude, slut, freak, weird, antisocial,
and much more. Sometimes, we can look past these labels. But some kids don’t
have the resources to look past these labels. And they desperately need a
coping mechanism. So the resort to self-harm. I will never understand or
promote self-harm, however I will do my best to help those who are locked in
there own minds.
I guess people like to put labels on
others because it means that they are not unknown territory. You can mark them
so you don’t have to take the time to figure out who they are. Its territory
you have already crossed. Easy! Right? Except by labeling others, you are
showing your own weakness. You show that you are not willing to think about
others. That does not make you weak, because weak is a label. It makes you
negative, however. It means you have a negative mindset. This isn’t a label;
it’s a way of thinking.
I
believe people hurt themselves for a couple of reasons. Maybe they are mad at
themselves, and don’t know of any other ways of coping with it. Or maybe others
convinced them that they are worthless. And they crave a “release.” However, people are not born in a state of
mind where they want to hurt themselves. Other people put them in that state.
However, the people that put them in that state of mind don’t necessarily
think, I’m going to make x go home and
cut herself. They don’t know about
it. And that’s the worst part. Maybe if these girls/guys that are so cruel walk
a mile in their shoes they would be more sensitive. Maybe then they would understand there is no logical reason for being
cruel.
Charli interview:
