PrettyHandsomeAwkward

Just a quick update, for those who care.

This year, I have really discovered my passions. I love exercise and healthy eating, I love physics, I love algebra, I love language and I love waking up early on a Saturday morning to go down to the organic grocer and pick up some grapefruits. I love hosting fancy dinner parties and I love warm weather. I love school and small children and all these things I never knew I could grow to enjoy. This whole year has been wonderful and full of change and happiness! Next year I am going on a ten month exchange to Italy, even though I speak no Italian! I am very excited to be alive right now and hope to one day pursue a career in physics or linguistics! I got a job at a childcare centre and my tolerance for children has improved significantly. I have expanded my circle of friends and now have a bustling social life. Everything is wonderful and life is grand! I lost fifteen kilograms and I feel absolutely spectacular. My relationships with others are closer than ever and I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for me.

I apologise for the lack of adjectives in this paragraph, it is 2:27 am and my attention to detail, or more accurately ability to care about my attention to detail, is low.

I have always desired to be a writer who can intrigue and bewilder those who read my work albeit I doubt I ever will be, as it is obvious that writing is not something that comes naturally for me. You can see the flaws in my work, the parts I fret over; rewritting them again and again. The detail is too meticulous and it becomes boring and clearly overworked. My emotional connection to words is only ever superficial and I am not capable of exposing myself as many great authors and poets can. I worry that everything I write is too simple and so I modify it until every word is beyond my understanding. My ability to comprehend my mistakes is lacking and all in all my writing is dull and unsentimental.

I have never really liked the idea of having a child. I am impatient and I get irritated too easily. I feel as if having a child would be the worst mistake I ever made. Everything about children annoys me and I believe that the only time I enjoy the company of children is when they are asleep. I know that at the age of fifteen, I cannot comprehend what it would be like to be a mother or if my views will have changed in another fifteen years, but I can say that I think I would be a bad one. 

Albeit my inability to imagine myself with children does not stem from a fear of being a substandard mother. It stems from my lack of maternal instinct. Children disgust me. The idea that I ever was a child makes my body tremble with embarrassment. The mere thought that I would have to put my wants and needs aside for the wants and needs of a child makes me incredibly sad and I do not understand why anyone would wish upon themselves the burden that is a child.

Not only am I self centred but I am also very angry. Small things make me mad very quickly and children do all the things that I hate. They are sensitive and cry a lot, they are very loud or very quiet, they fidget and have no concept of personal space, they ask too many questions and are never satisfied with anything, they are messy and fussy and lack any aspect of responsibility. Their inability to understand the adult world and the adult mind is irksome and I wish nothing more than to be an adult. Not an adult in age, but in thought and maturity. Maybe when I am an adult I will appreciate what children bring to the world but right now I do not.

I do not mean to, but I think of children as lesser. Less intelligent, less experienced, less able to comprehend and my mind tells me that this is not something that would go away with motherhood. I am rather ashamed of my hatrid towards children, as most people find them to be adorable and something they cannot wait to possess, but I really cannot understand why some people are so driven towards motherhood. I crave independance and success. I have one focus and it is myself and my happiness and my desires. My safety is in my own hands and I like it that way. I can trust myself and I can pick and choose the people I surround myself with. I can enjoy the company of adults without nagging, annoying, clingy kids. I can go out when I please and not have the responsibility of someone who needs me. I do not want to be needed. I do not want to be selfless. I do not want to divert my attention elsewhere and I cannot stand the fact that one day I might have to, or want to, or ruin my relationships because of my resentment.

I'm not entirerly sure why people set up accounts that allow others to ask them questions anonymously. I've heard people say that they want to get hate, as they find it amusing, but I'm sure deep down they do not really take pleasure in being degraded and insulted. Unless they are masochistic; in that case I am sure they are highly entertained by the petty remarks.

On another note, and mainly because I don't feel like writing a different quote for each thought I have been meaning to discuss (though with whom, I am not sure), I really try to release my anger through creative means but lately I have been feeling perpetually violent. I prefer to confront things, but in certain situations this is not possible and it really irritates me. I would rather just say how I am feeling (or rather, yell how I am feeling) but it would only complicate the situation more and I would just be digging myself a deeper hole. I tell myself I would not sink so low as to constantly plot revenge but I cannot seem to help it. And it isn't a "I'm going to be nasty and spiteful towards you," plot. It is a "so which way of murdering you would be the most painful and demeaning?" Which is a bit unnecessary. Of course, I would never follow through with murdering someone (I do have plans for a somewhat successful future, that does not involve a murder sentence) but oh it is hard to have to sit next to someone you thoroughly dislike and control your urges to stand up and kick them in the face. Luckily for society, I am a control freak and care too much about myself to risk suspension, expolsion or social isolation. 

The main source of my indignance is the fact that I feel so violated and wronged. Although the situation is inevitably my fault, as I was the person who started the war - as one might call it - I did tell the truth and I did not sugar coat my mistakes. And because of that I expected the trust and acceptance of my friends.. something that I did not get. And so I sit there, every day, talking my own mind out of violent outbursts, trying not to imagine them all dead. 

I have began to lose weight lately, which has made me very happy. I have been working really hard at the gym, boxing and pilates and counting calories and have used self control and eaten the right portion sizes and it has paid off. I have lost eight kilos (roughly 17 pounds) in about a month and I am planning on losing even more until I reach a healthy weight for my height and age. I went from being about 77/78 kilograms to being 69/70 kilograms. I am pretty proud of myself. My goal is to lose another 10-12 kilos but for now I am maintaining the weight and that is very rewarding. I have lost an inch from both my waist and bust and 2 inches from my hips. Not too impressive but I'm still ecstatic.  Oh and It's my birthday in eight days and I'm not even excited. I don't even like cake. Or eat sugar (other than what is in fruit). Or dairy. Or bad carbohydrates. I guess I will just binge on salad and lean meat </3