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#i’m kinda at a similar spot im in my last year of hs but im currently waiting on hearing back from one more college
suhnandmoon · 3 years
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My native language is Hindi!!! And for the real exams this time it's at the end of April THANKFULLY due to covid but usually it's 2/3 weeks after the practice exams 😢 These exams basically determine our future college and the career path we will take so I'm really stressed out because if i get less marks in any of the subjects my options to pick will be reduced 😭-🐿️
WOAHHH THATS SO COOL WHATT i’ve always thought hindi was so pretty 😭😭
also 2-3 weeks seems like such a short amount of time?? also that seems so stressful i can’t imagine 😭 i’m sure you’ll do great on all of them!! what are u interested in going into for the future??
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thelibraryshow · 7 years
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When you realize
Don’t bother to check Facebook. If they were your friends, they’d call or you’d make plans to do something. Friendships are not sustained by a thumbs up. Those aren’t my friends.. I’ve just known them for a long time. They have little or no idea what my daily life is like, even those I’ve known for almost 20 years. I actually pay attention and pretty much know what they’re up to IF anyone still posts anything real, non-commercial, or non-self promotional. It’s mostly reposts. I don’t even look at people’s pages, I don’t need to see another airbrushed, perfectly lit “candid” of your conventional family, the one you finally built, or your new car- the ford you’ve always dreamed of. I don’t really care about your favorite cartoon and I’m not buying your Tupperware, your paintings, and I’m pretty sure now hat we can choose precisely what we see, I’m on exactly nine lists. How do I know this? I always get nine likes. 23 if it’s something you have to like; a picture of your mom or someone who died young, anything military, your ugly new baby or anything nature-centric. Whatever the trend is, they will “like” it. Give it a try. Tumblr… well, I like the anonymity. This is the kind of stuff you’d share with your FB friends in the past or tell them over lunch in the way, way past. My real stuff got me alienated. I know the exact post that blackballed me with my white friends enhanced my standing with my black friends. My Asian friends love perfection, innovation and art. Girls? Depends on the girl. Guys? I don’t post pictures celebrating how many turkeys I bagged or the antlers of all he bucks I killed this year so… In my flesh & blood life, I get it! The people I’ve been close to the last year split when they figure out I’m really not going to show them how awesomely comfy by bed is.
I’m confused about all of this. From a thriving, overwhelming social life that just fell on top of me to a social life populated with users, losers and people who want to “chill”. I finally figured out that chill is code for sex in certain circles. Yeah, who knew? Not me, because I don’t speak American slang.
I’m lonely as fuck but id almost rather the only people I spoke to today were my mum, Aiden and a few cashiers. The cashiers were friendly enough & my family is always there… if I make the first move. Think I prefer my mother & the cashiers most days. No baggage. I’ve been a hardcore wardrobe slut since I bought my first bespoke blazers to comply with the handbook from my first boarding school. In this big Japanese house, my dressing room is between my room and the library. Typical living room size. I lounge there... I feel the hand-woven vintage fabrics, the suedes, the furs. This room feels more mine than my studios. Because however I want to present myself on a given day is neatly folded and hung behind glass doors? No, because I like shopping and this room is designed as a shopping experience. Mirrors surpass my 6'2". Rack piece of furniture Is a one off, designed for, imported by and beautifully crafted by five generations of my family. The library and every other room are similar. Does anyone know what it feels like to live in a museum spanning early 18th century to landmark mid century modern to early American? Carefully curated. It's everything and exclusively what I want to live with. Nothing more. It has to be... because.. .
I'm Working on getting accustomed to life without much human interaction. But then I’ve been working on that for a decade. I’m very social. How do I extract that trait?
People who like me like me a lot. Too much. People who don’t like me never say so, they just do shitty things- like when your cat gets pissed and poops on your bed. That’s never happened & my cats live in pure feline luxury as do my guests. People rave over my house. My cats? I give them what I used to give people I cared for. Time, attention, whatever they need or want. Try that with most humans. Turns out I don't draw convincing boundaries.
I used to have a lot of money. I spent it freely. I entertained, I traveled, I collected, I surround myself with lush gardens, and at times, gilded interiors. literally. I picked up the bill and ordered the cars... I spent extravagant sums on my art practice. Those same friends either bought or stole so much art I don’t even exhibit anymore. I design and redesign my gardens. Extreme gardening is a great replacement for interactions but even that garnered unwanted attention so, I opened my gardens to the public to raise money for a cause that didn't save one life, feed one person or clothe one kid, though the public library was something I did believe in before I realized they have never been short one dime.. 400 people in my garden, a years preparation.. in return I frequently looked out my window to see a couple of little old ladies treating my space like a public botanical garden. It was amusing the first couple of times. Then I moved.. and took the garden with me. Every tree, every stone. It took six months to relocate an extreme landscape, but it was satisfying. My extraordinarily well heeled gardener had quit by then. Work wasn’t his thing.
I’m alone in my new house. It’s mostly glass and big windows. It’s open with secret passageways between rooms and I love it more and more. I've become attached though not necessarily secure. I know I’m on the clock. Counting the days till I relocate this landscape too. My sources for hedging material and anything related to anything I do have pulled away, so, don’t ask how I obtain my materials. I haven’t figured out if I’m awful or if people like me who always have funds but no visible means of earning those funds are seen with suspicion. A few people continuously try to figure it out. They never get it quite right & the few I told didn't believe me so I never told anyone again.
I’ve been dating someone new. He doesn’t call, he’s autistic, he thinks he’s in love with me… or he did last time I saw him. He too wants something quite physical so I can’t see it surviving summer. It’s okay though, I’m getting good at resisting attachments. It’s painful. I suppose hermits gradually grow thicker skin? Or are they sad, miserable people numbing themselves to what they desire? I’ve Met numb people. They’d given up. They were like me; they never fit in and weren’t willing to sacrifice what they loved about themselves or what alienated others.
So, full circle? I resist attachments and can’t recognize a friend when it appears. I really am preparing to be alone. A hermit more or less. The weird cousin or uncle who’s never around. “ I’m not around because hearing how unusual and exotic I am got old the first time you observed it”.
Kinda lonely. Trying to become accustomed to it. Im to young and I still want... Replacing people with rare plants. I miss being center stage. I miss clubbing all night. I miss making pasta for a house full of people. I miss sharing my house, my food…my music especially. I miss making art in my studio. I miss my big family. I miss the illusion of friendship. I miss my one friend who knew everything about my favorite subject: art and design. I miss my crew: the people you never see by day.. because we’re resting up and shopping for something to wear out the next night. I miss long conversations about ancient, obscure books. I miss my friend Greg. The only solace is he died a year ago. Solace because we never split up. We watched every pre-1950 movie we could get our hands on. We spoke the same language, usually obscure references to films no one in any other part of my much compartmentalized life will ever know. I miss Greg. I miss NOT feeling like this. Crying, but nothing comes out. If I could have a good cry, I think I’d feel better. I miss being 100% sober. I take sleeping meds and anxiety meds now. I have a brilliant new psychiatrist I see every month or two. I look forward to it, but looking forward to it means looking forward to the onset of cold weather which presents a thousand other trials Yeah, I think about suicide. I know how and I know I can go anytime I like, but I’ve kind of promised myself I’d stick around as long as my mother does. She’s the only family I talk to besides my dad, when he’s not golfing and my nephew who’s five and adores Me. I know where adoration leads in my family. These people turn on a dime, especially when he becomes an athletic super star and his father finally gives a fuck. I’m a bit like a place holder when it comes to nephews. Tomorrow is my older nephews HS graduation. I’m not invited. When they’re young, my brother can’t be bothered to do so much as feed them. Then they grow up and do something that pleases him. Then it’s my son this, my son that. The most stunning thing about not being invited to any corner of this kids graduation isn’t that I’m not invited on the trip, it’s that before he was born, my aunt warned me not to get too close to him… and then she died. How was she so spot on? You know what else? Very, very little has come about which wasn’t available info to anyone paying attention to the patterns of my family over generations. If my family were a publicly traded stock, I’d be a trillionaire. As it stands I learned late how to use this to my advantage, though I know how to profit from each of them in some way. it doesn’t make me sad seeing what my nephew is, it makes me sad having to face it instead of guess at it and hear my mother deny what I thought, and now know to be truth. The only think I felt about that was I pretty: I thought of cutting him off financially. It’s paperwork I don’t want to do, it would ignite a chain reaction with My own inheritance, and in the end, he will never need anyone else’s money. If I do nothing and get hit by a bus, this snotty little bastard gets everything I have. I talked to my friend piyush tonight, he’s home in India now. He told me I’m always on my Mind. The best part is he’s always on my Mind too. Lots of people are on my Mind and I like knowing I may see them sometime. Piyush told me he was thinking of me and when he says it, I know he means it. I know it because we have ups and downs. He’s been rotten to me, I’ve been rotten to him maybe, we live in the real world. That relationship has sustained so much. It’s not the conditional, situational relationship one is accustomed to. Some good things happened today.
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