I started school today. I had a bit of a rough time. I’ve spent the last 7 years waking up at 5:00 in the morning to get to school on time, and I’m starting to have trouble with it. I like eating breakfast at home, because I’m too shy to eat with people I don’t know around. That means I’m eating breakfast around 6:00 in the morning. Afterwards, I feel nauseous. At school, I’m still nervous and feel like I’m going to be sick. I don’t want to eat. I mostly drink water. I fall asleep on my way home, and I’ll usually fall asleep when I get home because I’m too tired to do anything else. I'm up for dinner (though, sometimes I do sleep through it…) and then I get some work done. I don’t understand why I still dread school. It’s my second year. I just want to disappear. I want no one to notice me, and to just be. I want to learn, for once.
My first class this morning was Universe of the Arts. I’ve been told that this is a hard course, but my teacher is a doll and very high energy and randomly bursts out Italian. She also refuses to sit in a chair and makes us all debate. I find it very interesting. I don’t tend to like participating, because all through high school I either fainted when I spoke in class, or stuttered and turned red. Also, talking in class doesn’t help me keep a low profile. For the first time ever, I’m looking forward to what we’re going to cover. I took Western Civilization last semester, and I passed with almost 80, but I didn't particularly enjoy it. I failed history all throughout high school. I’m not very good with memorizing things. But now I’m studying the history of art, which actually interests me. We debated today about what made art art, whether or not there should be legal or moral restrictions to art. Can stalking someone be considered an art? Is Jersey shore an art? I found it all very interesting, and only spoke once. No one else knew what I said, which made me feel proud. According to my teacher, it was a Chinese Proverb. I’m not sure how I knew about said Chinese Proverb.
I started and finished The Perks of Being a Wallflower today. I really enjoyed it. A friend of my brothers gave it to me. She’s lovely. When i first met her, she wore a black dress with a red lace bra. It was a lovely combo. She’s just moved to Toronto, which is a little sad. My brother and I really liked her. I found The Perks of Being a Wallflower very interesting. My boyfriend laughed at me because when we were talking around 2 o'clock, I started talking about the book. He doesn’t particularly enjoy reading, and doesn’t exactly understand how I do. But I do, I so do. The only thing I don’t like is sore eyes and a stiff neck, but I believe it’s totally worth it for the experience the book gives. When my other brother asked if I was reading it for school and I said no, he asked if I was “one of those types of people”. I asked what he meant by that, and he followed by saying that I liked to read about other people’s fucked up lives. I don’t really have an answer to that. I am oddly fascinated by destruction and the like, but I wouldn’t particularly say that if there was a story of suicide, I’d jump for joy. What I read or see affects me, and I think it’s nice to be able to feel emotion.
What my brother said reminded me of a book I read in high school, which I’m sure most of you have already read. A Million Little Pieces. This is a story that is incredibly well written and definitely makes someone feel emotion. I read the book nonstop ‘til it was finished. It was a very good read. I think I’ll start rereading it tomorrow during my breaks, if there’s no one around that I know.