Thursday, November 6


(My English teacher told me that I blushed when giving my oral presentation but forgot to tell me my mark.) 

(The boy I used to like stood behind me on the bus back home today. I was happy for every sharp turn until I figured out that he was on the bus to spend time in the city with another girl.)

(Some ninth-grade boys could have been gorillas on the oval today, I would not have known the difference. They pushed and shoved each other raucously laughing, swearing and insulting one another. Whoever lost the ball game they were playing had to face the wall while one of the boys kicked the soccer ball to their back. It was a game of humiliation and testosterone and the girls in tiny skirts filming it made my blood boil.)

(Sometimes I want to invite everyone of my high school into my room, one at a time so they can see the little shrines I have set up, my pictures, my collages, my books. So they can see who I am and praise me for that. Other times, I am so happy to have a space cut-off from judgement and the worst thing I could think of is opening the door.)

(I am learning so much at school these days. But as Plato says: "Tout ce que je sais, c'est que je ne sais rien." All that I know is that I know nothing.) 

1 thoughts:

  1. i love the delicacy of your anecdotes
    i read them in my head in a whisper


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