Midnight

The Nightshade Princess
2002-03-12 21:55:54 (UTC)

Zero and zero is nothing but zero

I know it has been quite some time since last I had
the motivation to write. Things only seem to get worse for
me. I failed one of my exams... I still don't know how. I
re-checked everything, and it all seemed ok. I used to be
a straight "A" student. I know one of my exams I ended up
wtih a "B" and on another I got a "C" I am very certain of
an "A" on my English exam, it was so very easy. These are
all signs of my deeping despair, but no one has eyes to
see. My beloved seems to see this, though on what level
and how I may never know. I didn't get cast once again for
yet another school production. I don't know why I bother.
They don't actually seem to go on talent at all, probably
due to the fact that most of the people in charge are high
school students themselves. As usual, the most popular
people were cast. The lesser-liked people were cast as
servants for the popular ones, and, since there were "not
enough roles" for the amount of people that tried out, many
didn't get cast at all. My, I sound bitter, don't I? I
assure you, I am not, simply weary of life and the daily
struggle, but I have always been so tired.
I am going to be lovely on prom night. I already have
the basics of my outfit, the boots, the hoop skirt, the
velvet dress, the hair and nail appointments... but there
is still much to do. I must obtain some black lace and
blue satin, and hopefully also make a corset, though it
seems unlikely now that there is so little time. We
thought the prom would be later. I shall be a doll of a
grrl, the way that I am in life for the winds and for
fate. I walk about in a daze, large eyes shiny as glass,
and my lips naturally turing upward a bit at the corners,
even when I am not happy. Delicate white limbs and pale
hair and oddly coloured eyes... My eyes are turning more
and more a pale blue-green-grey, and it seems that the
brown star I despised so much is fading. If they were
blue, the physical form would be a perfect, metaphoric
mockery.
An acquaintance of mine (we've known each other for
years) gave me quite the motivational speech. It actually
had me thinking instead of drowning for a moment. She told
me that no one else sees the world as I do, and that I have
a gift for putting this all into words, for writing my
poetry, my small tales. She told me that I should not
waste it, that I should develop it further. We had been
talking about what we were going to do when we got older
and moved out. I told her of my plans to become a bar
tender, and she shook her head. I keep getting these mini-
lectures, and it's beginning to feel like an episode
of "The Twilight Zone"... My teachers try to tell me I'm
brilliant, and not to give up and to keep writing, and my
friends end up giving me largely the same speeches. I just
don't see it. My poetry is like my tears - a product of
the pain...