#(this is not a diss i genuinely enjoy that program)

[magicaleggplant]

ilia doing 7 quads and getting 2nd in the free with 186 is the funniest way this competition could've ended

[sobbingdistantnoises]

my archery team is technically a school sport, so we follow the national program guidelines!! ours are what we call barebow, so no fancy sights/modifications to help you out.

you get 4 rounds, (the first of which being a practice round that doesn't count to your score) at 10 meters away from the target, and then 4 from 15 meters away

. you get 5 arrows each round, and we use fairly large targets with the usual yellow center, red outer rings, blue outer rings ect. each school takes their top 12 scores (minimum 4 girls scores and 4 boys scores) and at the end of a competition will usual get like a trophy or something lol. this thursday my team leaves for louisville for the national competition which i am pumped for !!!

i enjoy playing the rhythm guitar part of songs more than anything! but i do learn the occasional lead part when i jam with friends.

theres not any part of my writing that im super proud of, but maybe when i reveal myself i can show you some of what ive written!! getting people to write haikus for you is great omg, i would hold onto those forever!!!

death on two legs is such a great song lol. their singer freddie actually wrote it because the band's manager at the time was an asshole, so it was basically a diss track against that guy before they fired him lmaooo . some of the insults are golden but "big talking small fry" ALWAYS kills me 😭😭

- ren <3

Ohhh, that sounds like a fair system! Good luck in your competition too; I bet you'll do great :))

Rhythm guitar is definitely respectable! It's what I usually do with piano too, although I mostly do it because there's so many solos that are too quick for me to play, kdfjskd

It would be awesome to see your writing after your reveal! I'll be looking forwards too it :D

I'm definitely planning on keeping the haikus; I already don't really talk to one of my friends who wrote one, so it's a nice memory to have of her. She wrote about pizza, which is just the most her thing to do, lol

Truee, like, I get the meaning behind "small fry", but I just can't get over it, dsklsjksj. The song's backstory is genuinely great though (just in hindsight, definitely not great that their manager sucked), lol. It makes it the third diss track song I like a lot too, so that's kind of an interesting coincidence, haha

[theworkofartplacement]

First visit - 4/11/19

After my initial meeting with Ruth Robinson (Lead Teacher and Leader of Learning: Arts, English & Business) in which we had discussed the logistical details of the placement, we decided on establishing my first two or three visits as an introductory period to the school. Ruth felt as though this would enable me to get a real sense of the different departments and courses on offer as well as allowing me to think more about which elements interested me the most.

Upon arriving at the school and getting signed in, I was met by Ruth who took me to the whole staff briefing led by the Headteacher Ellen Beveridge. I was surprised (and slightly embarrassed…) to be introduced and welcomed to the entire school faculty but it was a really nice gesture and made me feel as though my presence was slightly more validated…! As it was the first day back from their October half-term both the staff and the students were getting back into the swing of things again and so it was understandably fairly hectic. Despite this, Ruth and Hannah went out of their way to make me feel welcome and checked back with me throughout the day to make sure everything was going alright. 

The message Ruth sent round to the relevant teachers: 

Ruth had created a detailed schedule for me which she had also circulated to the relevant teachers so that they knew I would be coming in and watching part of their lessons. The schedule was really helpful as it meant that every minute of my time was accounted for and I wasn’t just left to my own devices…! Although it was definitely the best way of finding out about all of the different courses on offer, attending 3 lessons in an hour was quite intense and at times I did feel a little bit uncomfortable just barging in and out of lessons. Most of the teachers were really helpful and took the time to introduce me to their classes (therefore explaining my presence and why I was peering at their work!) and explain what the students were doing, however, there were a couple of teachers who didn’t and I found it harder to chat to the students when I hadn’t been introduced. I do need to remember that it is a very busy and stressful part of the term and so it may have been difficult for some teachers to give me much attention which is completely understandable.

The schedule Ruth made for me: 

One of the most interesting aspects of attending the different classes was being able to talk to students about their work and how they were finding their courses. I really enjoyed chatting to a couple of girls in the Graphics class who showed me their digital research presentations including a variety of photoshoots they’d done for the different strands of their projects. I also enjoyed looking through the work books of the Y13 Fine Art class and talking to those students about the rationale behind their chosen ideas. Each student had such different ideas and approaches that encompassed a really wide variety of mediums and techniques. It definitely made me want to go home and start an art project…! The Art Foundation students were also a really nice bunch who I got on well with and I hope I can work with them more closely – maybe helping them with the more academic side of the course such as helping them to reflect on their practice and process?

I also had the opportunity to chat to a couple of students who are wanting to apply to university for similar courses to mine and chatted to them a bit about their personal statements which seemed to be useful to them. I felt as though this would definitely be an area I would be able to help with but as UCAS applications are pretty much all finished I’m not sure how useful I’d actually be able to be anymore.

In terms of which classes I was drawn to from an academic perspective I would say the Foundation class, Fine Art and Film studies although I think I would enjoy helping out in any of the classes!! Just not sure how useful I’d be in graphics or TV & Film as I don’t have many practical skills in those areas… I’m still not quite sure how I might be able to get involved with the academic side of things but I think chatting to Ruth and looking over the syllabuses would enable me to get a better sense of where my knowledge could be employed. Ultimately, I’d be happy helping out where and when they need me but I’m sure I’ll be able to develop a more structured program with Ruth.

Another class that I sat in on was the Arts Award Gold class. The Arts Award program is designed specifically to be done alongside A Levels and as it carries UCAS points it can be a very helpful for students who need more UCAS points or for high achieving students who want to explore the arts further and boost their personal statements. It was really interesting to learn about how an arts program (which has to include 5 days of work experience and the development of a new skill) is being used to supplement A Levels and education more generally as it highlights how seriously the arts are taken by the school. It also gives students the opportunity to continue with art even if they’re not doing it for a level by encouraging them to develop their skills but also learn new ones. Having never heard about the Arts Award before it gave me more hope about the place of the arts in the English education system.

As part of the work experience section of the award, a few of the students were involved with the Big Draw event hosted by the school and the North East Art Teacher Educator Network. The event took place on the 26th of October and was a huge success with over 300 people of all ages in attendance. I enjoyed chatting to Hannah about the event as she underlined the school’s involvement with the wider community in Durham. It became clear that DSFC and the art department more specifically, are always thinking about ways they can make the arts more accessible to everyone in Durham. By placing an emphasis on the family friendly and wheel-chair accessible nature of the event, the school is trying to get as involved as possible with the Durham community and really put the school on the map of Durham as a cultural hub. The event also gave an art student the opportunity to curate and organise a visiting exhibition of ceramics from all over the world.

A poster for the Big Draw event: 

Another part of the work that the department and Hannah Scully more specifically does is the Arts development program. This is a program that the school has developed in order to further establish the school as a cultural and artistic hub in Durham. Learning about this side of things really excited me as there are elements that need to be developed further and so working on it would therefore be useful experience for me as well as being genuinely helpful to the program. Hannah outlined the different elements such as the Artist in Residence program which has been running successfully for a couple of years now. The next artist they have coming in starts next week and is an illustrator who is an ex pupil of the school. The AiR works with the students as well as being given workshop space, access to the facilities and the opportunity to put on a final exhibition which the school promotes and creates resources for. When I next go into the school Lizzie (the AiR) should have arrived so I hope I can chat to her and get a better sense of what I could help her with / be involved in as it would be a very exciting thing to be a part of.

Within the Arts development program, Ruth and Hannah are also hoping to set up a permanent exhibition space within the school. They’ve been looking at different institutions to see how they might be able to design their own. This has also involved thinking about the ways in which they could fund this project such as opening a small shop similar to a gallery giftshop. This is definitely an element of the development program that I’m interested in as I feel I could give the project the attention it needs as both Ruth and Hannah are very busy with teaching. I also feel as though it would give me practical skills that would be useful for working in a gallery in later life (something I am definitely keen to do). The main problem faced by the development program is a lack of funding so research into grants and potential funders is a really important task that needs a lot more attention and is something I would be interested in helping with.

Before going into the school I had been thinking about ways in which I could combine my dissertation research with my placement. I had initially thought this would be through a presentation, lecture or workshop with the students that would be tied to aspects of their curriculum. However, upon chatting to Martin (the games development teacher) who is himself really interested in my diss topic (and comics / graphic novels / animation more widely), it became clear that none of the curriculums really explore graphic novels/ films or comics at all. Despite this he said that if I made a case for it then I would be able to try and organise something for the students. Even though there may not be many opportunities to explore my ideas with the students, Martin seemed interested and encouraged me to come chat to him if I ever needed help / advice or just someone to talk to about it. 

He also recommended me the book: Understanding Comics the invisible art by Scott McCloud, which looks really helpful.

Overall, I had a very busy but enjoyable day and I am looking forward to my next visit on the 13th of November! 

[thescuttlebugg]

as you all know I a) ship Adrien Agreste with every living thing and b) think polyamory solves SO MANY PROBLEMS 

so with that in mind: 

everyone in class is talking about Ladybug and Chat Noir because [insert latest akuma attack/Ladyblog post/gossip rag article here] and they inevitably end up on “well OBVIOUSLY they’re dating”. Marinette is dubious and Not Into That Rumor, and just goes like “pfft whatever Chat Noir is the most shameless flirt I have ever SEEN, he spent like the whole Evillustrator thing hitting on me. um. sorry, Nathanael.” 

and Chloe is like “BLEGH I know he is obviously incorrigible and not even WORTHY of Ladybug”, simultaneously marking the one and only time those two have ALMOST agreed on something and putting Marinette in “Fight Me, Chloe” mode because HELL NO she called him a FLIRT not “NOT WORTHY OF LADYBUG”, FIGHT HER, CHLOE, MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG WILL NOT STAND FOR THIS, MEET HER IN THE FUCKING PIT 

meanwhile in the ruckus everyone else just quietly internalizes “Chat Noir is a giant flirt who hits on everyone” 

(aside from Adrien, who is busy trying not to be TOO obviously sinking as low as possible in his seat and d y i n g).

and in future interactions with him, therefore, the class proceeds to assume that he is flirting NO MATTER WHAT. 

.

Chat Noir: *tackles Alya out of the way of an akuma’s candy ray* GET DOWN!! 

Alya: excuse YOU sir I almost nearly PRACTICALLY have a boyfriend 

.

Chat Noir: *narrowly rescues Nino from rabid magical gerbils* Are you okay?!

Nino: excuse YOU sir I almost nearly PRACTICALLY am a boyfriend 

.

Chat Noir: *barely managing to hold the door shut as an akuma’s mind-controlled victims attempt to burst in and turn them all into literal SOUP* Please stop deliberately antagonizing the super-villain, Miss Bourgeois. 

Chloe: UGH GROSS AS IF YOU EVEN HAVE A SHOT NEXT TO MY ADRIKINS 

.

Chat Noir: *NARROWLY AVERTS WIDESPREAD DEATH AND DESTRUCTION BY LITERALLY BASHING AN AKUMA IN THE FACE WITH A TWO BY FOUR*

the entire class: oh my god Chat cHILL 

.

Chat Noir: Hi. 

the entire class: OH MY GOD CHAT CHILL 

.

Marinette does not realize quite the extent to which her classmates have internalized the “Chat Noir is the flirtiest flirt who ever did flirt” message, although even if she did lbr she probably would not argue. 

Adrien realizes. Adrien realizes and he is d y i n g. HE’S NOT THAT BAD, IS HE? HE’S GENUINELY JUST TRYING TO DO HIS JOB HERE. OKAY EXCEPT FOR THE ONE TIME WITH MARINETTE MAYBE BUT THAT WAS ONE TIME AND IS IT HIS FAULT HE WAS ENJOYING THE ACTUALLY BEING ABLE TO HOLD A CONVERSATION WITH HER THING?? IS IT???? 

Then the supercat/classmate interactions kind of . . . tilt. 

.

“Save that flirty stuff until AFTER you’ve helped Ladybug kick akuma butt!” Alya exclaims, shoving Chat back towards the flaming chessboards. 

.

“Seriously, dude, I’m flattered but now is not the time,” Nino says, eyeing the looming lemonade tornado warily. 

.

“Oh my god, just give me that thing, you sad, pathetic creature,” Chloe says in disgust, grabbing his baton away and proceeding to program her number into it. Chat does not even know HOW she figured out how to do that. Chat did not even know that was a thing his baton could DO. 

.

"Oh hello there, handsome,” the akuma of the week purrs as Chat struggles to escape the tangle of her whip. She may or may not be cat-themed. 

Okay she is VERY cat-themed. It’s. It’s a problem. 

“WE GET IT, YOU’RE A FURRY, BUT AT LEAST PURIFY THE AKUMA FIRST, CHAT,” the entire class yells from behind cover. 

NOT THAT KIND OF PROBLEM. 

.

“. . . hi,” Chat Noir says warily, half-waving at the Very Intent Classmates half-surrounding him. 

“Hi,” the Very Intent Classmates reply, all mimicking his little wave in return. 

.

Adrien was not prepared for this. Adrien was, like, the OPPOSITE of prepared for this. 

“So anyway next akuma attack Alya and I are going to ask Chat Noir out for ice cream,” Nino says as they’re all leaving for lunch one day, and Adrien is so distracted trying to jam all his books in his bag without smushing either Plagg or Plagg’s cheese (seriously, did it MULTIPLY??) that he unthinkingly says: 

“He can’t eat ice cream when he’s transformed, his tongue’s too sensitive.” 

The entire classroom falls dead. fucking. silent. Adrien takes a moment to notice, but then blinks and stops mid-book-jamming to look around in confusion. 

“. . . what?” he asks. Is there an akuma? He doesn’t SEE an akuma. Is there an akuma directly above his HEAD, maybe? 

“ADRIKINS!” Chloe shrieks, sounding scandalized. 

“His tongue is too WHAT?!” Alya demands, her phone already out and recording. 

“Bro, did you actually beat us to the CAT?” Nino asks disbelievingly. “You are like the only person in class who HASN’T hit on him yet, how the HELL did you manage THAT?” 

“. . . not EVERYONE in class has--” Adrien attempts, and then realizes that no, no. Everyone has. 

Well. 

Except Marinette, obviously. Unless practically dragging Chloe out back by the hair over dissing him last month counts, anyway. 

. . . actually she’s looking a little weird all of a sudden, now that he’s thinking about her. Is she feeling okay? 

Actually, scratch that, EVERYONE is looking weird all of a sudden and also EVERYONE is looking DIRECTLY AT HIM, oh god what. What did he do. WHAT. 

“Adrien,” Nino says, grabbing him by the shoulders with a very serious expression. “My dude. My buddy. My BROTHER.” 

“Yes?” Adrien manages nervously, feeling not unlike an akuma is about to drop.

“You HAVE to tell us what he kisses like.” 

[artistclock]

WHEN IT WILL BE ME?

By: Cherry Mae Parohinog

Be the best or be nothing at all. Remember that no one remembers the second best or the rest for that matter. Aim for the top place. Always.

I had it in my head that individuals were constantly looking for attention and a good reputation. We lived for their compliments. Who doesn't like to be complimented? One positive word from you, they can live for a day. One positive sentence forms you, then they can build an altar and worship you. They can even kiss your feet.

"Our school's pride! Let us give Mr. Merritt a standing ovation! The well-known art competition was held in Manila. And, of course, congrats to Ms. Hernandez on her second-place finish. Thank you very much! Mr. Merritt, top one!”

Roaring applause was given by the crowd to us and especially to him. I don’t know if it’s because he’s drop-dead gorgeous or because he won. I bet my life, it’s the former.

When my name was called, I couldn't help but notice the host's low tone. See, second place means nothing. I also stood up and clapped. I didn't clap because I wanted to; I clapped because it was my initial inclination, and it was required by the program. And I should, because I'm one of the winners!

“Congratulations, Ms. Hernandez. Your arts are good and getting better.” The host mumbled to me and smiled with her lips pursed.

Comparative versus superlative adjective, I see.

Her words could no longer be heard due to the great weakness of her voice and the crowd’s loudness. I accept her compliment with a nod of my head. It would have been lovely to hear her praises, but they didn't last long in my ears. Her words sound rehearsed.

“Thank you, Ma’am.” I return the smile she gave to me.

Another medal and trophy to be cover with dust.

James Austin Merritt, the winner, in his custom-tailored tux from the back of the host, sashaying his way to us. His chiseled arms are highlighted by his serge coat. His tousled hair, crimson lips, flushed cheeks, and metal timepiece. His deportment now matched his brusqueness and arrogance so well. He looks expensive and extremely confident.

“I know I mentioned it before, but let me congratulate you again,” he says as he clears his throat. “Congratulations, Ms. Olivia,” He's in top form, with his cheeky smile on his face, and his right palms outstretched in front of me, indicating that I should take it.

This is the type of guy I should avoid.

“You, too, Mr. Merritt. You brought the school’s name again. I’m so honored to join you in that dazzling journey we had in Manila. You’re the best companion.” I clasped his hand in mine and smiled at him.

The words taste so wrong on my tongue. I can even taste the bitterness.

“You two did an outstanding job. And this handsome prodigy, oh, darling, make us prouder,” the host taps his right cheek. She has the look of a proud mother. I almost puked when I saw how sweet it was.

He turns his face toward me, allowing me to get a good look at his aristocratic features. “Not at all, Ma'am. Olivia is here, and she is the best at everything. As with anything! Did you happen to notice what she used in the competition? She used oil paint as well as poster paint! The beauty of her artwork is breathtaking! I'm lost for words to describe how stunning and talented she is. I was startled and mesmerized as I stared at her. I-I'm referring to her painting,” His prominent cheekbones turning a slight shade of red.

I stifle a little chuckle. I'd like to believe him. His comments, despite the oozing tone of sarcasm and stupidity, ring true in my ears. I only hope Mrs. Ronald, the host, agrees with us, although I doubt it. Her sour expression tells me so.

My hands are itching to hit him - no, beat him! Hmm… maybe later, Mr. Merritt.

“What exactly are you saying, Mr. Merritt? You won, which implies you're the best. What would happen to our department if you weren't there? A strong and confident man. Your artistic prowess is out of this world,” she shook her head, wanting to put a stop to the conversation.

Mrs. Roland may believe that a man has all the power, but this is not the case. I wholeheartedly disagree. I believe that women can accomplish just as much as men.

It appears to me that I am not as important as him and that I was only placed there to fill the gap. My achievement and trophy mean nothing to them.

“No, no, Ma’am. She’s also a winner in the competition too. I was so amazed at how good she was that I was ready to go home crying that day,” He shoves his hands in his pockets and glances over me. His left dimples popping out.

“Alright, Austin, if you say so. I'll leave you two alone now. I’ll just talk to someone on the other side.” She gracefully turns her back on us. Her sour expression remained.

“What was the point of that?” You want to court me?” My arms are folded on my chest.

His mouth fell open, and his brown eyes were as large as saucers and almost out of their sockets. He has a peculiar appearance. I nearly roll on the carpet!

“No. Never, Miss, but you can thank me though. And then I'll say, 'Welcome, Olivia.' How does that sound?”

I groan. As I looked at him, I wondered how someone could be so dumb.

“I appreciate your kind words, Mister. Hearing that made my day.” I mock him by pressing my palm to my chest and bowing slightly.

He mumbles an expletive under his breath. “Stop dissing me, please. The competition ended well and unbiasedly. And are we already friends, or am I imagining things? But for me, we’re already friends. We can help each other. We can also create beautiful artwork. What do you think?” He wiggles his eyebrow. As a result, he is quite attractive; otherwise, he would resemble Mr. Bean.

“No, we're not friends, and we never will be. Well, unless you are the firm believer of ‘keep your friends close but keep your enemies closer, then we can be friends,” I shrug my shoulder acting as a cool kid. I just need myself and no more.

His stares are so intense that I almost cringe.

“If that’s what you want, then fine. We’re enemies now.”

Perhaps it is true that when the universe aligns, there is a force that allows two opposing things to become one.

I let him see every inch of my heart.

On the floor was a jumble of canvases, paintbrushes, and paint colors. Images of hazy landscape sceneries, abstract paintings, and random people's portraits are hung, while some are simply lying against the wall. I watched him in the corner as he was serious about what he was doing. It’s like he’s the only one in the room and his painting is the most important thing in the world. His hand seems to be dancing to a rhythm that only he can hear. The veins in his arms protruded when the paintbrush kissed the canvas. His brow wrinkled and his crimson lips parted slightly. It's amazing to look at him in such a way that you wouldn't believe he's puerile and truant.

Let’s make art together. No rivalry between us.

His words break the high sturdy wall I built for anyone to protect myself.

“I'm hungry,” I said, although I'm not. All I want is for him to pay attention to me as well.

“Then, eat. I don't have your mouth,” he says. He didn't even look at me. He's really serious about what he's doing.

“You’re arts is romantically beautiful, Austin. It never fails to amaze me. I want to make you a statue,”

“Really? That's very thoughtful of you, Olivia. Thank you for your backhanded compliments. It's much appreciated. And I think... I'm going to cry. Could you please hand me a tissue?” He retorted.

Oh, God! Give me more patience.

Dropping my head back against my chair and dragging my breath through my nose. I prop my right elbow on the armrest and lean my head against my hand.

“Have you read what was posted in the bulletin? They’ll have competition again. Maybe you'd like to join?” Now he's focused on me and telling me something else. His words were vague in my ears. In a trance, I'm staring at a line of ants scurrying around the wall. What if I lose once more? A second-place finisher again? I don't want to lose. For once, I'd want to be on top. No, I always want to be at the top. No one but myself! The best of the rest!

I'm a sad little girl who craves attention and longs to escape reality. My anxiety began to attack.

I recall my father yelling at me, "I won't look at your trashy trophy, and I'm not proud!" He claimed that painting is not a career and that I cannot earn a living from it. The benefit here is that dad let me choose the course I wanted, which is why I chose fine arts, but how could this freedom feel so lonely?

He spews his venom at me for not being the best. I held my tongue and waited until he was satisfied with the damage. I can't blame him; he's one of the most competitive people I've ever met. He was distraught. It’s like I’m trying to hold hot water in my bare hands. So cruel. He has such a terrible opinion of me. I value the arts in all of their forms.

I believe in the power of words and their ability to affect people. They have the power to make or break you. They can even kill you.

“You’re worthless! You deserved everything bad that happened to you! All the hate! Why won’t you just die?!” I screamed as I stood in front of the mirror, pointing to myself.

And he made me feel unloved and unworthy.

I was immersed in thought when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

He looks at me as if he’s reading my mind and my soul, “Hey, I got you now. You’re doing your absolute best. Stop trying to control everything around you. Stop it. Stop thinking about the outcome of every situation, just enjoy the moment. Don’t be hard on yourself, Olivia.” His tone is gentle.

“If everyone turns their back on you, then look at me. I’m your number one fan, remember? I hope that’s enough.” He mumbled.

In response, I gave him my genuine smile.

People have asked me if I’m okay with placing second or third, and I’ve always said yes. That's the response they're looking for. They don't care about me. They simply want to pique their interest. That's all there is to it. That's why, in the end, you're the only one left in the dark, bruised, and defeated.  You didn't get the kind of attention you were hoping for. Who would want to hear from someone like me? Nobody knows who I am. This is how the world works

Jesus! I sound like a petulant child.

The afternoon zephyr gently ruffled my hair a little. I'm seated in my school uniform on the far side of the school's reading sanctuary section's concrete gazebo, surrounded by trees whose leaves are already falling and scattering on the sidewalk. It's a peaceful spot. The sound of the page of the book I’ am reading hurt the silence of the surroundings.

It tells the story of a wise man who can't seem to find himself. He was enslaved to the standard that society and his family imposed on him. Because of his intelligence, he lacked a friend. His diary was his lone confidante. In this journal, he writes down all of his thoughts and the words that are stuck in his head.

Why do I have an affinity towards him? Perhaps because we are in a similar situation. I recognize myself in him and can relate to him. If he utilized a pen and paper to write down what was going through his mind. In turn, I used a paintbrush and a canvas to express my feelings and resentments in life.

I was so engrossed in my daydream that I didn't notice the mighty Austin lounging coolly against the jamb of the gazebo, hands in his pockets, and chewing his bubble gum, which he even inflated and chewed again. Yes, he is sometimes gross. He chuckles awkwardly at me and takes the chocolate cupcake from his pocket. He uses his teeth to peel it off.

“I wish you a very happy birthday, Olivia. And I'm sorry I won't be singing you a happy birthday song. Now, Olivia, make a wish.”

I lock my gaze on him. I consider myself extremely blessed to have him. I close my eyes and whisper to the wind.

“Break those shackles, and watch me fly.”

My room opens with a loud bang, waking me up. I could see his familiar shape in my hazy eyes.

“Join the contest and show me what you've got.” He spoke it loudly and authoritatively. My father's actions surprised me. Isn't that the truth? I heard it very clear. My nails dug into the palms of my hands so deeply.

Take the risk or lose the chance. I'd go with the former, despite my reservations.

I shield my face from the light with my right hand. He, too, squints from the sun. I'm not sure why we decided to go for a walk in the middle of the day. I'm perspiring, and his neck is flushed. He unlocked the door for me when we arrived at the school's art studio. The door is excessively large and heavy. To open it, he must use all of his strength.

“How come this old door won't let a handsome man like me in? If this door is a woman, I'd say she's just trying to get my attention.” He winks at me as he turns to face me.

This man!

I take a seat next to him and maintain a comfortable distance between us. We're currently practicing. The crickets could be heard all around us.

To be honest, I had lost track of what made me happy. I've run out of ideas, motivation, and energy. I didn't have anything to look forward to. I close my eyes tightly.

“Yes, you’re doing it right. Stroke it slowly. Don’t get frustrated,”

“Everything is mediocre,” I scream, hurling the paintbrush. He took it and returned it to me.

“Slow progress is better than no progress at all, Olivia,”

“Easy for you to say. You’re famous. You’re so good. No, you’re the best! The greatest! Everyone loves you. And me, I’ am no one. A good-for-nothing daughter. Tell me… when it will be me?”

He blinks several times. Because of his heavy breathing, I notice his shoulders bouncing up. He's chewing his lower lip. In his eyes, I can feel his exasperation and sorrow. He reaches for my face and gently caresses my cheek.

“You know what, I think I should call it quits. My dreams are shattered all around me. From the start, everything is wrong. I can't function properly,” I grumble. I'm furious at myself.

I'm losing control of everything. I'm losing interest in things that used to excite me. It’s like I'm no longer a part of anything. My cheeks are flushed with tears.

“If that’s wrong, then I don’t want to be right. And don’t compare your artworks to mine, or everyone, that’s just deadly. Everyone has their uniqueness. You are your person,” he whispers.

Despite his words, I am still empty. I'm desperate to get this emotion out of my system.

“It isn't that simple.”

The opinions of those around us have an impact on how we perceive ourselves. Austin, on the other hand, is arrogant, harsh, and blunt, but he can be a dark knight in sparkling armor. He sees right through people. He lives his life to the fullest.

I stare out the window. The car was moving so fast that the trees we were passing through swiftly vanished from my vision. I'm leaning against to it. I believe we are all dissatisfied individuals. We wish for something that we don't have. We envy people and things in various ways and on various levels. We wish to be that person and live their life. We desire things to satisfy ourselves. People are usually asking for something good, yet they are frequently asking for something bad. We just don't notice it, or if we do, we're too afraid to acknowledge it. People are also cynical.

I'm extremely nervous right now. Inside, my toes wiggled into my shoes. I can even hear my heartbeat in my ears and a strong throb against my skull. I'm feeling nauseous. My heartbeat quickened as fear swelled in my chest. Austin, on the other hand, appears to be a lost child at the playground. His eyes are shining with enthusiasm.

Today is the competition day. I used to think of him as my enemy, my tough opponent. But suddenly things are different.

“I'm drowning in anxiety and fear. Who wants to swim with me?” I asked him. We were in the park at the time. I'm sitting on the concrete bench, watching the kids play.

“Me. I can even bring some colorful floaters. You want that?” he answered me while licking his lollipop.

I lift my eyes and stare at him. He was looking at a large artwork in front of us, arms akimbo. He has a carefree smile on his face.

“This is it! The world has to be ready. We are here now, ready to conquer them,” He has a devilish grin on his face.

"Don't live too much in our head, Olivia. This time you are not alone,” He added, and continued watching the artwork, "I will not allow you."

The overthinking sucks that drove me to do some irrational things, as well as my anxiety, which accompanies me around and feeds my fear, are still here. Now all I have to do is revalue myself to forgive and love myself better. I'm going to improve with time.

And he’s with me now. We are here now. This is our now. This is the reality.

“And Olivia, it’s always been you.”

[alittledarkcorner]

I’m very confused right now—I’m thinking a lot yet thinking about very little of substance, and feeling a lot yet very little all at the same time.

I’m realizing how stuck in my program I am. Years of just devoting myself to my work and defining myself solely by my external achievements, and today I find myself constantly questioning my self-worth and with fragile self-esteem. And I’m just so unstable lately—the past few weeks I’ve been so tired, up and down emotionally, exhausted and despondent and on the verge of breakdown and over the edge, and then happy, and then right back to questioning everything. Lately, it seems every time I start to feel better and enjoy things again I fall back into my negative thinking patterns; I struggle to enjoy or find meaning in anything, I wonder what’s the point of anything—of talking to fill the void, of having opinions that don’t mean anything, of having relationships which just feel like a burden, of having sex which once seemed forbidden and enticing but now feels overrated... nothing feels worth it.

And I’m constantly confronted with how shitty a person I am. I don’t listen to people when they talk to me; my attention drifts elsewhere. I realized last semester that by listening to people and asking them questions I could make friends and be more likeable, but over the summer I realized that I was just doing it because I dislike myself and I was trying to fill that void with other people’s approval. Ultimately I just don’t like myself.

I’m constantly torn between who I want to be and what apparently is me. I remember with Purvi, I pushed to make myself seem really friendly and fun on Facebook when we chatted, but when we met up I couldn’t keep the facade. I feel this constant obligation to be happy and fun and friendly with other people—do I not want to burden them or do I worry what they’ll think of me? I don’t know—and it’s just so draining. I know I’m lucky to have Jo but lately I’ve been wondering and questioning (along with everything else in my life) what’s the point of having a boyfriend. It just means having someone to talk to when I need to complain, but I have that with my family, and someone to have sex with, but I’m not enjoying sex all that much recently. Lately I’ve found myself wishing I didn’t have a boyfriend so I didn’t have to worry about making him happy because no one wants to be around someone who’s miserable and gloomy and sad and no fun all the time. Then I think it would be easier if we broke up so I wouldn’t have to burden him with all the stupid shit my mind comes up with. And that’s another thing, I do realize I’m probably doing all this to myself and making everything harder than it needs to be, and I don’t know why I’m like this but I don’t know how to stop it, and I feel bad that I worry over such insignificant things when there’s a lot more important worse shit in the world, so that just reminds me more what a piece of shit I am. At least I’m getting used to being a piece of shit, and I don’t feel as bad about it as I did a few weeks ago.

I can see that I don’t value the people around me. I only call Maman when it’s convenient and I want to talk to someone about my life (ok not totally true, I do care about her but then when she confides her problems I don’t even focus on what she says and let my mind drift off). I wrote incest fanfiction between two brothers and enjoyed it. I don’t ask the people around me about their lives because I don’t really care. I don’t care about much right now. It all seems so pointless. I’ve stolen before and enjoyed getting away with it. I’ve tried to get out of trouble, like when I got dress-coded, because I couldn’t believe I was being dress-coded—I thought I was too good for that.

I’m totally self-centered and can’t expand my love or care to people around me. I don’t ask my roommates about their day or problems (ok sort of but only for like Rena because she initiated it and now I’m used to it). Maybe it’s because if I get to know them I’ll feel too strongly when they hurt or become burdened by their feelings; maybe I feel if I get closer to them I’ll have to constantly be friendly and fun and I don’t want to have to maintain that facade. And I know that’s totally bullshit because I shouldn’t have to maintain a facade, I should be genuine with people for God’s sake, but I’m so used to hiding myself for my entire life that I don’t know how to be genuine, or myself, whatever that means. And what’s the worst case scenario anyway—that they think I’m boring, or don’t like me? That’s totally bearable. Along the same lines, I know it doesn’t do me any good to worry about being positive or friendly or fun for Jo, because worst case he leaves me and guess what? I’ll be fine, and I won’t have to worry about putting on a facade for anyone.

This reminds me of fourth grade, when I found out my class had spread a rumor about me and I felt so betrayed—I couldn’t believe people weren’t directly honest and had been talking behind my back. And then I decided I’d rather be invisible than have people say bad things about me, that it was better to have no reputation than a bad one. So I closed up and didn’t let people know me. When I think of this I realize it sounds dramatic, a little girl’s life changing because her classmates thought she liked a boy, but whatever. I acknowledge that other people can be sensitive to minor things, so for goodness’s sake I think I can say that it really hurt me without feeling bad about it.

Maybe I’m actually really sensitive inside, and I hide from people and emotions because I don’t want to get hurt. I remember Madeleine’s birthday party when we watched John Tucker Must Die, and seeing him in the hallway in a thing I had so much secondhand embarrassment and didn’t want to watch; his embarrassment was tangible for me. And how to put this, maybe I’m not used to things being put out in the open. I’m a more private person than other people I know. When Jo and I had kbbq at his place with Fiona and his roommates, and she dissed me for making noise in the room next to hers while at our mom’s place, I really wished she hadn’t said that. Frankly, I resented that she’d said it and I think she was too drunk. At first I thought I might be being too serious and that I should lighten up, but then I thought that I respect other people’s wishes so it should be perfectly fine if I don’t want to share that with his roommates; I don’t particularly want to be friends with them anyway.

So lots of self-discovery lately, and lots of pain and suffering (wouldn’t Jo be proud). I feel like I’m going to such great lengths to try to avoid pain by walling myself off, but funny enough I’m already hurting. So maybe it’s worth trying something different, pushing myself to be more honest because how could it hurt more than I’m hurting now?

And I have been pushing myself anyway. I went to the OCF meeting and talked with people, I went to my history discussion even though I thought of bailing, I just read my history readings without spending hours more than are needed, I get up and run even on days when I really don’t feel like it, I raise my hand in discussion before I think too much about it. I’m getting better at just doing things in order to get them done, rather than obsessing over doing them perfectly, and I feel I’m slowly chipping away at my perfectionist tendencies. And I’m realizing, all these things (or most of them) that I don’t like about myself, they’re just tendencies. Shyness, negative thinking, wasting time: tendencies to to overthink instead of just saying what I think, not sleep or eat enough or deal with what’s bothering me, not prioritizing what I want to do and get done. I keep coming to the conclusion that identity is just an illusion, anyway—we are malleable and can redefine ourselves anytime we choose. It’s kind of like what I told Jo today, about not being sure of who I am and not feeling like I have a strong sense of identity: I‘m not really French, or British, I don’t feel American, I don’t really feel Californian either, I’m not even a girl in that I don’t really care for clothes or makeup—so what am I? I think Jo put it rather well, that I’m not really any of those things, that I’m an individual. He said Maman mentioned that back in Oregon, that I had a hard time while growing up because I didn’t really fit in anywhere, and he surprised me by saying he liked that (don’t remember exactly his reason for it, I think he just said it was ok because I was an individual and just me, and that he wasn’t really Korean, either). It’s moments like this when I realize how lucky I am to have him; that if I ignore the clutter and paranoia in my head about how unloveable I am, it turns out he just accepts me.

I’ve said pretty much all off the top of my head. It’s 3:45AM so I should get some sleep, even though I’m tired yet restless so not sure how that’ll work out.

That’s all tonight from this little dark corner of the world.