I walk the halls in anonymity which is the norm for a lot of high school kids. For some reason the first thing that pops up into our intermittently pornographic mind is depression. Finding out they arent good enough for varsity tennis, basketball, soccer or what have you makes them depressed. Not getting asked out to prom or being denied by your dream date just adds on top of that. Why the is that so bad? Walking around with nobody knowing who you are? Sounds perfect. No responsibility, well other than science projects and shit, but i dont exactly call that responsibility. I slept my way through the first couple of periods and found myself gazing out the window before the bell rang for lunch. Tim and I are the only two at our table. We are wedged in the southwest corner right by the Coke machine. Tuesdays are the worst. Most of our friends are out getting stoned at the deadend hangouts of the private neighborhoods that dot the outlying area of my school. We got a straggler at the end, but other than that, anonymity. My cousin Mary is in my class, but she only waves when she sees me. She is semi-popular with some hot friends, but she never goes out of her way to help me out. Our cafeteria is huge. A good 12-13 tables. You got your jocks, prom queens, hipsters, drama queens, geeks, hippy potheads and the rich kids who drive the same BMW to school. You know, that relatively new silver one that their rich, banker dad's just had to give them in order to make room for the newer model. And at my table it is always Tim and I. We grew up together and we always got along and so did our parents. He was never an athlete, so he is walking around the world of high school like a zombie like most kids our age. I try not to think I fall within that category, but its inevitable I guess. When you are a junior in high school what else do you know? You know your half way through the biggest pubescent growing period of your life. Then all of a sudden, you cheat your way through and they are handing you a diploma in the middle of a gigantic high school ice rink. Thats how they do it here anyway. Then its off to college. Where do you go? What are you going to study? Are you planning on going to law school? How am I supposed to know if I am going to go to law school five and a half years before I even make that decision? Then its what did you get on your ACT? What did you get on your SAT? Dont get me started. My is already on my ass about my ACT scores. Since when is 28 not good enough? Im going to a state school to save him thirty two grand a year so he should consider himself lucky im not letting an ivy league school enshroud them financially. Unlike most kids in my class anyway.
I go to the local public school, Peabody High School. Even though there is a huge gathering of private high schools that surround this town, my school does its fair share of churning out ivy league calibur students. "Kids of the future" as they are referred to here. But a quick run down of the schools will give you a better idea of what kind of world I live in. All the inner city kids go to Cathedral College Prep, the escalade driving, rich snobby athletes go to Incarnate High, the hot rich girls go to Visitation Academy, the hot slutty girls go to Ignatius High, the wannabe rich kids that arent rich at all go to Pennington High, and the smart stoner athletes go to St. Andrews High. I didnt know where I fell in so thats why I settled for the lesser-but-good public school. Plus, I cant imagine going to school with all guys. My dad always asked me, "Dont you wanna go to so and so high school? So and so's son is going there". Whenever he tells me that I just want to respond and tell him how much of a douche bag So and so's son is. But I never do. To my dad, I always settled for mediocrity so it really doesnt matter what I say. I never practiced enough, studied enough, on and on. But most of the time, my dad doesnt really say anything at all to express his displeasure of my mediocre abilities. Thats the second worse thing a parent can do. Number one: "Son, I am DISAPPOINTED in you". And number two: nothing. That ridiculous silence where you feel like they are telling you something by biting on their salad fork in disgust at dinner. The heavy sighs as they walk by you as you watch tv. But that silence speaks. It speaks words that you cant hear, but feel. What happened to the unconditional love a parent is supposed to show you no matter the circumstance? I live in a middle to upper class home and neighborhood. I do good in school. I have friends. Some, but they are friends. This will be something that I will only figure out with the unwinding of time. But thats no way to live. The conditioned mind is a scary thing and that is what im surrounded by. Sometimes I just want to pick up and leave with no plans, not even a map just to escape these pseudo people. I want to break away from the chains that Im so accustomed to. In my town, people marry their high school (sometimes grade school) sweet hearts more than eighty percent of the time. Ok, maybe not eighty percent, but if you did the math and canvassed every neighborhood here, more times than not, the guy answering the door would have his high school sweetheart right behind him. Its not necessarily a bad thing, but it doesnt suit who I want to be. Becoming someone and being someone are two different things. I dont see myself changing just to fit to the social norm, so being me is the only answer I know. The only navigational tool I own. When life becomes fragmented, thats when they start getting caught up in the bullshit. I want to travel, I want to meet people from distant lands that know things that I dont know. That are from places only expert world travellers have seen. I want to tap into their minds and learn their ways, not handcuff myself to the boundaries of this town. Being out of your comfort zone is the best indicator that your doing something you thought you would never do. I think if I had a happy home things would be different, but you gotta take the good with the bad and thats exactly what I am doing. I know I am destined for better things, living in ways early nineteenth century vagabonds did. Thats what I want. Its like a drug I am feigning, yet never consumed.
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