I Can't Be Who My Dog Thinks I Am
Today I lost two tennis matches. Granted I played against a public school team and I didn't play badly, but I lost 8-2 in singles and 8-2 in doubles. Both matches I should have won. I've gotten denied from all the colleges that I've heard back from, at least all the ones I give two shits about. My IB class had an 80% acceptance rate to Wash U, I made up that 20%; when I explained this to one my friends parents, all they said was that the other kids are crazy smart, I guess they didn't mean to imply that I'm just a cut under them. Intentional or not, that came through. I'll be honest, I probably am. I'm pretty down right now, and I don't know why.
Maybe it's broken promises of my early youth, the romantic, "you can be anything you want to, bubushkeh," or maybe it's me looking back on highschool with regret tinged eyes. I should have done X better, I should have done Y better. I should have gotten all A's, I should never have let X teacher fuck me over, I should have spent more time on Tennis and school than Y, but I can't change any of that. At least I can't change it now. All I can do is look back on it. Try to learn from it, I guess.
I look into the eyes of my dog, big, black, pupils staring into my soul. They look so innocent, I'm sure he thinks I'm a god among all manly men; after all, I pet him just in the right spot to make him close his eyes, I walk him sometimes, and hell I play with the little bastard. This chihuahua has seen it worse than I'll ever hopefully have to; he's had dislodged bones, been on the streets, been a cast-away, and to top it off, I think maybe he thinks that old god among men still loves him, the one that dumped in on the streets after his job was done. He looks into my eyes, and to him they are tinged rosy - maybe he sees something I wish I did - and he sees the perfect person. Wholly good, never sinned in his life, the openner of the great big door to the outside world, a master of his domain. To tell you the truth, I wish I was 1/4 as good as that.
He looks at me so curiously,"how do I stand on 2 legs also, WTF BRO," or at least I think that since one of his legs is injured so he awkwardly hobbles on his way to pick up the lady chihuahuas. He's a slick little fucker. He sleeps by my pale-white legs, not a care in the damn world, not even when I'll pet him next, because he knows if he just meows (I'm not kidding btw, he meows sometimes) he'll get what he desires; he's smart enough to know his god is a pushover. He doesn't have to worry, I won't batter his heart, I won't batter his body, I won't batter his mind either. I wish life was 1/4 that nice.
Maybe my dog is a polytheist, because there are many kind humans in his life, and no antagonist to stop him. Maybe I should be too, maybe if I was every god would be this kind to me. My life is great, its not a stretch to say that I've got it too good. A silver spoon one could say, was put in my mouth at birth. I wish that silver spoon never rusted, like it seems I've done to it by pressing my luck, my mouth against that spoon. I don't think I'm going to be accepted to any college I want, and I'm anxious about it. I'm not anxious because I don't know what is going to happen, I'm anxious because I don't know how I'll respond in my bereft sadness. I'll be denied, I'll be alone, I'll feel abandoned by fate. In a way, that might be good for me in the long run, but in another way I might just end my quest for greatness. I'm no fool, I'm not falling on my sword, but it feels like college is pushing me onto my own sword.
I wish college could see me the way my dog does. I don't think they'd ever deny me. I wish I could see myself the way my dog does. I might be a better man for it.
This wasn't meant to be an emo-blog, just a way I'm feeling right now blog. I'm anxious, I'm not emo , though I just flipped my hair, if you care.
+ Show Spoiler [a poem I wrote about my feelings] +
Delirium part 2
How I begin to explain
This flurry of mad escape
My escape from made in America pain
A trial of teenaged rape
Fleeing fast, flying running
You can’t run forever
Hiding in a cave takes quick cunning
Cunning? me? Never
Daze increasing with each droplet
Incredulity drops down my face in the cradle
This place can’t camouflage me yet
The old say I’m too young to be fetal
I was younger I never had this haze
I was younger I never found myself trapped
Trapped in this maze
Never to break free, madness keeping me wrapped
Kept in a blanket, blue beanie in a bed
Never thinking life could interject failure
Failed dreams swirling around my head
Nothing is sure, anymore
I’m a mere baby
At least I’m told I was
Ephemerally
As life does
Mom don’t look embarrassingly
Be blind to my shame
I’m not the success story, perfect little me
I tried, I promise, it’s not me to blame
What you used to adore
It’s disappeared, not here anymore
I’ve paved life’s road, paid it’s fee
When happiness tolls, sadness comes quickly
Lee’s smile isn’t so free
Its in the style of Yeats, or at least I tried to make it semi-close to that, though less lyrical.