Monday, August 2, 2004

'Demon barber! You will not collect my hair for your satanic rituals, take your cursed shampoo with you back to the pit!'



I’m tired. Pure and simple. I’ve reached the abyss of University subject selection and I have found myself severely lacking in the skills I need to bridge it.

If I managed five B’s, I would approximately get an OP 7, that’s if I did well in the QCS. Currently I have two B’s, three mid to high C’s and one mid D. I attempt and I am overwhelmed. I struggle and I am befuddled. Ego peto, ego dumtaxat fungor invenio. I seek, I do not find.

I don’t know what it is. For some reason I just cannot excel to the level I need. The most simple of problems cause me to stumble. At home I cannot do my homework because I don’t know where to start.

I was going to do Radiology, I was going to do Forensics, I was going to do Social Work, I was going to do Psychology. I was going to do a lot of things, but I don’t think I can. I could do Psychology, but when I proposed it to my parents, I was informed, ‘don’t do that. Psychologists are considered a joke in hospitals. Everyone does Psychology and then ends up unemployed because all the jobs are taken.’

I sat with the QTAC book and realised that if I wanted to do anything with my life at University, it would involve a useless business subject that I wouldn’t understand, and no-one ever uses. My mother sat and went through the stupid thing and kept reading out useless degrees that I wouldn’t have even been able to comprehend.

I’m back to medicine, but I know I can’t hack it. I know that I will not have a life after seventeen years, I know I will do nothing but work, I know I’ll never see my children grow up, or talk to my wife.

I know I’m going to struggle and hurt and weep. So perché l'esperienza recente me insegna cosí. I know because recent experience teaches me so.

The wave is back. I’m struggling, but I don’t want to. According to the 2003 Jobguide, I have all the qualities of an excellent author.

According to last term’s report card, I am a ‘quiet, unassuming young man who is very highly respected by his peers…his ministry and leadership...has been outstanding’

I’m sure being a great guy is a incredibly important part of everyday money-making. Being respected doesn’t count for diddly-squat, unless I have the credentials to back it up.

I just can’t achieve. I can’t analyse properly, I cannot do Maths B equations without relying heavily on my notes, the easiest part of the Physics curriculum escapes me, my essays lack depth, I struggle to resolve concepts into a tangible form, but I’m a really great guy.

Smile to the abyss and see the demons waving back.

After twelve years education, all I have to show for it is wasted time, repeated mistakes, and a flippant waste of resources my parents don’t have.
I have to perform better, because for some stupid…stupid reason, I’m my brother’s role model. He believes I can walk on water, and the only reason why I’m not is because I haven’t tried hard enough.

I’ve drowned so many times I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth.

I read my Patriarchal Blessing. All the clues and hints and advice were written there in black and white, blatantly obvious. I should have attended seminary more, I didn’t balance my school life with my church life.

A third part of my mind keeps believing that someday I’ll just wake up and know everything I need to know, as though the ‘~’ key were pressed and ‘Liam->setskill’ was adjusted.

It’s not happening. I ignored the hint file to my life, until I had squandered all my opportunities to change.

Effectively I have reverted my entire life to a pathetic excuse for a metaphor.

I’ve told you that I’m sick and tired of being told I’m a bright boy, I told you I’m tired of being told that if I try harder that I might just meet the limit. I am sick and tired, but I put up with it because the alternative is unmentionable.

My parents have such an unfounded love and respect for me, an honest, unshakeable, knowledge that I can excel, I can do something, that it sickens me that I’ve squandered so much at school. I’ve wept. I can be depressed and easily recover, but this just pushed me over. I wept. I wept for my brother, my grandfather, my parents, and everyone who’s ever had some sort of hope for me. Mostly I selfishly wept for myself, because I just can’t do it. I can’t see a future for myself.

My mother believes that if I get a tutor, I’ll somehow be able to pass Physics, and improve Chem. I don’t want her to keep spending money on me, I’ve taken so much, and I’ve wasted so much.

I don’t feel good, if you haven’t guessed already. I hate being a tick.

I suck so much.

The whole moment has just passed through me so quickly that I don’t feel anything anymore. I feel…I just…I don’t want to do anything, but the thought of that hurts even more. Education isn’t black and white to me like it is to everyone else. I feel like the only reason why I pass is because of pre-programmed knowledge that refuses to be added to. Damn ROM.

Damn bloody Tom. He’s the only one that’s really noticed me for who I really am as a student. Useless. Just bloody useless. I blame my faults on a teacher that galls me, and get frustrated because, for some reason, when I’m in class and am trying to concentrate, I suddenly blink and find myself two minutes later, not having recalled anything that has been said, having written down five lines of notes I don’t know about, but having an avid recollection of whatever the hell happened at lunch.
Must be ADD or something. Everything was so easy in primary school. I’ve gone back over my report cards and have found that, right up to the end of grade 10, I was a great academic student. Suddenly in senior, I just, fail.

I’ve left everything so late…

My eyes sting from salt, but my Maths B is done.

I have no idea what I’m going to do next year. I’ll be moving to Brisbane, but UQ will not have let me into any of their courses.

I can’t believe how incredibly elitist I was. I’m such a wannabe academic. I hang around with people that have achievable plans, my best friend is the academic of the school, and the rest are in the top 10-20%. Hell, my friends are the top 10-20%.

But I’m very highly respected.

And I'm great at getting along with people.

My school life bloody sucks.

EDIT: In case you're wondering, no, I haven't told Brie, and I don't think I will.

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