oscarcerise-blog

[oscarcerise-blog]

stammer

I have a stammer. I have done for a while, but it used to be far worse than it currently is. No one ever mentions it, which is fab, but I often struggle to voice the way I want to say something.

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Hopefully one day, through confidence or something, I won’t stammer anymore. It’s not terrible, but it is annoying.

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Farewell,

an anxiety prone Oscar.

[oscarcerise-blog]

the first two days

Sixth form started on the 7th. Let’s recall how that went. On the first day, with the time we have to get to sixth form by being 8:45, we rolled up around that time, with my friends being overly stressed about being at the traffic lights (which are about a mile away) far earlier than we have ever been at the traffic lights before.

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The first day was full of “study sessions”- things like essay writing, note taking and how to revise: the usual sort of junk that you learn in PSHE class, not on your first day of doing a levels. The last “lesson”, if you could even call it that, was a half an hour talk about work experience. Today was better, however, in a sense. I started the day with Sociology- no actual sociology was taught, but it was, at least, a lesson within a room with a teacher for the subject of which we were to learn during that hour. Geography was after that, both before and after break, which we did nothing in except listen to a teacher drone on, and some more enthusiastic kids wrote down excessive notes for whatever reason was best known to themselves.

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After that I had a free period- an hour of sitting round a table, talking to some mutual/almost friends, and eating crisps ever so slowly. Nick messaged me his computer specs- lots of junk I had no idea about, which I showed to both James and Alex (neither were particularly impressed, though I imagine for the amount of money Nick has most probably invested in his computer, they should be). Nick took offence to them not really caring or being all high and mighty about how it wasn’t that good or something. Last lesson was art, but was my one lesson a week where there isn’t a teacher in the room- eventually we just got dismissed to leave and walked out about 40 minutes earlier than normal.

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All in all, thus far, the “excessively high workload” and “huge step up for a level” has took form in four hours of doing nothing at all, with some very minimal homework. Four definitions for Sociology and two questions, one for each Geography teacher. A ‘plus’ of sixth form is that I have to email in whenever I am ill, rather than my mother judging my illness harshly and then deciding whether or not to call in for me to be sick that day, not that I did ever go in when I was ill- I just stayed at home if she didn’t call in, as I’m a stubborn and determined person when I have a goal, no matter how minor it may seem.

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We’ve reached the weekend, and Nick has had some problem with his car (I won’t bother to go into details, my diary will suffice for such content) so it is iffy as to whether or not I will see him next weekend, which is a bit of a shame. He’s also not had any more calls back from the jobs he’s applied for, which sucks. Adulthood seems awfully difficult at times.

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Farewell,

a young and hopeful Oscar.

[oscarcerise-blog]

balloons

My mother got me some balloons the other day- two to congratulate my GCSE results, and one for my birthday. I feel odd that my exam results warranted more praise than the day of my birth being celebrated.

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Farewell,

a spoilt Oscar.

[oscarcerise-blog]

i like the rain

It’s raining at the moment- not a particularly momentous occasion, and yet one I always enjoy- at least, if I’m not marching to school through it. I had a hard look at what I’ve done in the past few years, and it’s quite clear to say that the most stuff in my life has happened in the past 365 days, in comparison to the 4 or so years before it that I remember fully.

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In the past year or so, I’ve lost my virginity, had two ‘proper’ relationships, one of which I’m currently in, been on holiday twice, completed my first ever set of real exams and come out as gay. A lot has happened for that amount of time, which I think is why it felt like I had been 16 for far more than a year. Many adults said, when I told them this (even my boyfriend initially thought this way), that it was because time goes slower when you are young. However, this is rather flawed logic as previous years before this one had zoomed past at a far higher rate than the one I just completed. 

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Nick had a big think about this and then came to a conclusion that I’m sort of satisfied with: you do more when you’re young. Aside from homework quantity, I lived a fairly average teenage life for the past year- meeting up with friends most weekends and often during holidays, had lots of different types of exam and preparation for them along with coursework to complete, and over all didn’t really have many days to do nothing in, aside from this August which has been a lovely resting period. My homework amount has always been lower than others, which even Nick was jealous of - at my homework’s height amount, I would get maybe 3 pieces in a week, all for a lesson the week after. Most students, including my boyfriend, get several pieces, most of which are for the next day.

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Revision is something I’m really not looking forward to in sixth form. My geography teacher boldly boasted about how ‘two full folders’ will be the amount needed for all the a level notes, which I doubt the accuracy of but it’s still playing in my brain a little. I look forward, though, to the many days in the future where I have little more to do than, say, write an essay for Sociology and one for Geography, and do some painting or photography for Art. What a simple concept it will be to live life with such little to do, and so little variety in my knowledge to stress about.

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Perhaps during sixth form I’ll change- I mean, my appearance is hopefully going to change as I plan to grow out my hair, but psychologically decide that, instead of being lazy and slobbish as usual, I will become a productive and hard-working person. I mean, I doubt it, but one can only dream.

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Farewell,

a lazy Oscar.

[oscarcerise-blog]

talking about myself

I dislike talking about myself. It doesn’t matter whether it’s boosting me up to amazing heights in someone else’s esteem or really attacking my every action and killing someone’s belief in me. I simply can’t do it- I freeze up, say generic words and phrases, like “I enjoy art”, rather than actually going into any detail about my interest in something. My biggest fear for the future currently is work experience- a requirement at my sixth form, and I would love to do it, for example, with children, but I will likely end up wasting my time spending 30 hours doing some boring job.

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Employment in general terrifies me. In around 2 years, if I decide to go for an apprenticeship, or even if I go to university, simply to support me, I’ll be probably getting a job, whether full time or part time. Of all the great terrors I’ve ever faced, and perhaps ever will face, having to do something for someone each day and being paid to do so is a major responsibility which makes me feel awfully young. A lot of things lately have made me feel very young- from my boyfriend’s age and experience in different things from jobs to debt, to being given a child ticket on a trip to London recently with some friends.

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Driving is another big milestone that I’ll have to get through eventually. My provisional license came through the post a few weeks back, and my mum is going to book driving lessons and I’ll be driving her old car, Hamish, a cute silver Nissan Micra from 2002 within the year. As my boyfriend lives so far away, in Hertfordshire, when I live in Berkshire, it will be a blessing to be able to cut down the journey time for him, as his sciatica pains his leg a lot when driving long distances.

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Growing up, I’ve had to sometimes talk about myself. In a mock interview for “sixth form” a couple of years ago, I was asked some really invasive questions, which produced some extravagantly phrased exaggerations of minor details in my life, such as volunteering for my school being shoved onto a podium, when in reality it was to avoid doing maths that day. Yesterday my mother said I would never get into Cambridge University- never in my life have I now wanted to get into a university more! Someone saying I can’t do something triggers some sort of determined impulse in my brain, and makes me behave pretty irrationally in that sense.

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She said their website lied, that they don’t truly not care about GCSE results, and that As and A*s would “obviously” not be good enough. Again, she said I had ruined my chances by only doing three a levels, rather than four. I disagree. I believe, and hope, that with some strategically worded extra-curriculars and at least two A*s at a level, I’ll manage to get in with some level of ease. It’s not like I particularly care about going to university- my inclination at the moment is swaying towards an apprenticeship, in all honesty, but her saying I cannot has rallied my determination towards the opposite. My father is far worse than her, though, he was disappointed with my GCSEs, saying I could have done so much better if I had bothered to revise.

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Sure, this is a true statement- I likely would have done far better if I had put in a level of effort above a bare minimum, but I did not, and the outcome was wonderful anyway. Sometimes I wonder if fate is a reality, because little else would’ve managed to get me such lovely results to flaunt at employers when I’m 23 and broke after a university degree, most likely. Then again, intelligence is quite a big factor, I presume.

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To conclude- talking about myself is far easier in a written format, no matter how long-winded or confusing it may be, it removes the stress of instant rejection from the receiver of the information.

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Farewell,

a chilled Oscar.

[oscarcerise-blog]

i burnt my gum on a chip

It hurt.

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Farewell,

a pained Oscar.

[oscarcerise-blog]

nick

A man with a child’s brain.

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Farewell,

a teasing Oscar.

[oscarcerise-blog]

sixth form begins, etc

It's September- a time of ending bad sleep schedules, waking at a "normal" time for society and new beginnings. On the 7th, I start sixth form: a most anticipated event because of many reasons, but let me outline a few of the most key ones:

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- the lack of need for uniform

- extra hours (once I have proved myself worthy) of free studying time

- higher level of responsibility

- only doing subjects I care about 

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One scary thought, as always, is the future. I’m a person who seems to always live in the future and never go a minute of the day without thinking about some far off, distant event, like applying for university vs. an apprenticeship, or opening my a level results and finding that I have failed everything, to the utmost disappointment of my entire family, friendship group and loving boyfriend. Yes, the future is something I’m trying to retreat back from- living in the moment, whatever that Latin phrase is, is something I wish I could do. Nick, who I should name as the current lover of my life, claims to live in the moment- he seizes the day by doing nothing at all productive. He slobs around, eating terrible food which made me feel queasy and ill after a week of being around him, not planning for the future in any means except in one sense- a monetary one.

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He seems obsessed with only two things- money: how much he makes a week, a year, an hour; and me, his first boyfriend and partner in around four years. I find it wild how much he calculates to such high detail what he will earn, and cares so endlessly for my mental health, what I eat and interests, and yet also spends his days sleeping in a darkened room and playing video games on a rainbow LED fancy computer. Typical that the one I had to fall in love with was a clone of the majority of my friends- an insanely lazy nerd.

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Speaking of love, I’m not sure if I really know what it is. Despite being 16 years old, and having said it countless times to many partners, one which definitively set my mind straight as to whether or not I was gay, I haven’t the foggiest idea what it really is. I would say I love my mother, for example, for that huge burden of fondness and warmth around her existence is unlike anything else. And yet, even though the typical chant of “love you!” has rolled off my tongue during the month or so I’ve dated my current boyfriend just as much as normal, I’m not sure what I exactly mean by it.

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Nick, to this problem, said that love is putting the other person first, but is that a true definition? I think the word love is a little too broad, and that’s where English may fall down on the subject. I could say I love toast, or that I love the feeling of shaved legs on clean sheets, but I also love my mother and love Nick. I guess, in that sense, he is right- in another late night discussion during my week of slobbing around in his room, he said I didn’t know what love was. And honestly? I think he may have hit the nail on the head with that one. 

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Back onto the subject of school- I find it very easy. Never in my life have I ever not been able to do anything academically: sure, sometimes I may struggle a little to keep tons of numbers in my head for maths, whilst doing some fancy calculation, but that’s simply because my brain isn’t wired perfectly that way. I still find academia, I believe that is what it’s called, extremely simple. Ever since nursery, I have left each year thinking that I have learnt everything there was to offer, and ever since the latter part of primary school, I haven’t bothered to learn everything, or do all the work, or complete every little task. I’ve become cocky in my abilities, a trait I don’t enjoy, but find very easy to continue being as recalling information or applying knowledge is ever so easy for me.

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And so, yes. A levels should (in theory) be far harder. I should be working like a dog, whatever that phrase is supposed to mean, despite me only doing three subjects. I look forward to seeing that happen, if it turns into reality, as I doubt art, sociology and geography will be terribly draining of my mental and physical capacities. I mean- people manage to do four or five a levels, along with jobs, open university courses and recreational activities, from drug taking and partying to charity work and the Duke of Edinburgh award, so me simply doing some a levels along with at most learning to drive a car and seeing my boyfriend for the odd weekend here and there won’t be terribly difficult.

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To conclude, let me write my prediction of what school will be, or rather, sixth form will be, for the next year. A very easy ride with a slightly higher workload.

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Let it be said here, that I may be proven completely wrong and flummoxed entirely by the education system, wishing I had chosen vocational courses or something completely different, but I doubt it. If I can get As and A*s in GCSEs without revision, I imagine with a little hard work I’ll manage the same during the next two years.

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Farewell,

a confident Oscar.