No Penny for My Thoughts

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No Penny for my Thoughts. A real estate for my rambles, and can be yours too. Warning: Silly rambles, unnecessary arguments, everything else in the mind of a teenager.

Ahana Jey
5.0 1 review
Age Rating:

Chapter 1

Sometimes, when I talk about this to anyone else, be it even if it’s someone I dearly love, I don’t know if they truly can’t understand me and have never faced failure, or if they are pretending. It’s like…..I am the only failure.

I know I have many things to look at, but deep down I am selfish.

I want to be perfect in EVERYTHING.

I know it’s impossible…..yet I dare to think of such. I regret typing this, trust me, it makes me feel like a total brat. Actually, only a day before yesterday I won a small poetry competition. And today when I got relatively lesser marks on my biology test, than what I aimed for, I came back to square one and felt like a loser…..again.

But I feel like I would accept failing easier, if I truly got the proof that there is no one on this earth who is perfect.

I know my life is more than understanding a chapter in physics. I know it’s more than stressing over not paying attention in chemistry class because of looking at memes. (I feel guilty enough. Okay? Don’t rub it in.)

But is it? Maybe this is just a step to my purpose. And I keep slipping from each step. I go one step up and feel like I’m on cloud 9. Because of that I miss the next step and slip and tumble down with no friction, support or whatsoever. It happens so fast. And I’m on the uneven ground again.

I wish……… I really wish I knew if perfect existed. I’m not jealous.

I am.

I have this fear that, whatever I’m good at right now, it will go away in just a second.

I wasn’t the brightest in primary school, and I had some dark feelings. I hated that feeling where everyone would look down at myself. Even when I did too. I wouldn’t want to walk in pubic places, even if it’s new, cause I was failing consecutively. It’s horrible to feel like that. My heart would beat extra hard, and wherever I went I would have the same thought loop that said,

“ You aren’t worth walking here. How can you, when you couldn’t even do something that half the kids of your age could do so easily?”

But now, I try to work hard. I don’t wanna go back to that. I start sobbing thinking of that, because I went through that alone, and you can’t judge me for something that I felt, broke, and survived through. Even if it was a small thing, or if it was in primary school. I went through it. Not you.

I now study so much, with extra hard work with that thought clear in my head. But this time, as I am in high school, and pray I won’t lose what I have or else it would be extra hard to be able to discover the light to anything at all.

And it may be even more hard to believe the existence of hope after school, if I lose what I have..

I once was studying for this biology test and I was looking at my phone for solving quizzes ….(I think. But I definitely don’t think I was looking at memes.) And my dad out of nowhere, saw my messy table scattered with notes and pens, useless sticky notes, you name it, and started telling me, “You never learn to clean your study table. Look at this mess! And I see you always chatting with your friends. You have changed, you aren’t staying up till late to study like you used to and always have your eyes on the phone!”

And I knew he was correct.

So for an hour I had tears in my eyes, a huge lump in my throat as I studied why the sclerenchymatous tissue was also called as dead cells.

Call me dramatic.

I call myself that too.

I don’t want to type this because I know I’m being bratty. There are people who don’t have half of what I am privileged with. And I dare to act like this? I hate myself.

But I can’t hate myself.

Cause the universe maybe took billions of years to make me alone and I just so easily say that I hate me?

And I so easily scratch myself in anger until I draw blood so I can punish myself?

I thought then……..why don’t I destroy something that I made with my hard work?

When I tried to delete my poetry on a site, I couldn’t.

I just couldn’t.

I was proud to see that I had a talent to write poetry at this age.

I was proud.

But I was ashamed of being proud.

Confusing right?

I don’t know what I’m talking about to be honest. I really don’t.

But I just wish sometimes failure was okay in this world. I wish I wouldn’t get that lump in my throat, or feel my heart drop, or feel like my life is crashing whenever I face failure.

I wish failure would be a blessing, just as success is seen as one.

I know wishes come true…..But how much more patient can I remain?

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