What-ifs and Futility: Why do I even waste my time?

So it's the last day of March.......the day before April.
And.......it just occurred to me how much different my life could have been had I made other decisions.

For example: My current best friend. Let's call him......Mario. Like the video game character. He'll get it and he'll laugh, never fear.
So we have been friends for circa 2 years now, through thick and thin, including a very serious thin that involved my parents and us being scared shitless to link each other for about 2 months....it's hilarious.
But it came out in a conversation we had recently that, a year into the friendship, we had a serious mutual crush. Then it just died out because, on his part, he was SCARED. TO. DEATH. Of my father. And he had a girlfriend so...that was that.

But I got to thinking, what if I at least had womanned up, put my big-girl push-up bra on, and said to him "Hey Mario, you know I really like you though..."?
Chances are he would have responded to the tune of "I like you too" a relationship would have happened (regardless of the fact that he says now that I would have gotten some serious bun-- translation: some serious cheating would have taken place) and I'd have been a lot happier in that one than I am in my current (yeah, yeah, Iceburg isn't gonna see this, hopefully), would have been in a waaaaaayyyyyyyyy longer one (year plus as opposed to five months and counting) and......I'd just have been happier overall, because, come on. Your best friend being your boyfriend? Sheer bliss.

I brought up the whole scene of how we became friends and remained friends, asking a load of what-ifs. His response:
I don't think it matters. The fact is we're friends and that's what matters.
It's obvious that he's not a what-if kind of guy.
One of MANY, many reasons I love him, but that's a post for another time.




The other decision I wonder at sometimes.....deciding to go to the school I'm currently attending.
I could have gone to the party central or the rich kids school but....nope.
I chose Manchester High, the alleged "Home of Champions" (have yet to see any but whatever). Why? I heard constantly that their science program is was excellent. The campus itself apparently was amazing. A lot of good things.
Oh, and vibes apparently did "tun up."

But now I'm here and.....none of the above have been proven to me. I was told by Excelsior (who, incidentally, is right beside me as I type this on his laptop) that I came a "tad late". And damn, do I agree!

Why am I even doing advanced subjects? Ambition

Ok, joke time. Before I sin even more in this bright day.
Excelsior: At least you get me out of all this. I'm not worth it [fi real sah] but...you know [I don't actually] small consolation. At least you have more sarcasm and puns in your life [this is true].





I guess what I'm getting at is.....I'm the type of person who thinks on the past very heavily and wonders at the courses life could have taken had other decisions been made. And yes, I am a shitty decision-maker (viz: Ah fuck which one do I loud up....ah, yes. viz: In a relationship I didn't particularly want with a guy I hated the first day I met him, and who isn't really loved by my parents.)

So,I have a lot to think about in those nights when my body refuses to have mercy on me and allow me to go to sleep. No wonder I'm a depressed teen 70% of the time and a complete bitch the other 30%. How do people deal with me?

I think that's it for now. I feel myself getting the beginnings of a mind-ache.

Wanting a book to read now and having none :"(,

@Jaye_Eccentriq

Misinterpreted Signals (Decode)

I had a lot to say to you
Yes...lots.
I kept noticing: you were always watching me.
Your eyes were always glued to me and
It made no sense to me at all until I realized after I let them take you that

They taped over your mouth, scribbled out our truth with their lies
Those little spies!

Was that what you were trying to communicate to me?
I'm sorry for not listening.
It probably makes my questions null and void.
The ones like

"How did we get here
When I used to know you so well?"
How did we get here?
I think I know now...

Misinterpreted signals.
I read them all wrong.
Maybe if I'd known before that

They taped over your mouth, scribbled out our truth with their lies
(Those little spies)

I would have read them right.

How did we get here? I used to know you so well.
I decoded your messages wrong.

I don't know you as well as I thought.

@Jaye_Eccentriq

16 years

Burnout

As I write this my eyes are droopy.
So I'll keep it short and to the point.
Haven't even edited this. Don't intend to.

I don't know what this is going to turn out to be
Maybe a poem, maybe not....
But I'm tired.
SO
SO
TIRED.

What is this?
I've switched eyes with a panda.
I'm weak.
I'm (more) moody.
I don't eat.
All I can do is complain about how tired I am.

I pretty much give up.
On school, on life, on everything.


Is this what they call...
Burnout?

@Jaye_Eccentriq

16 years

Why I am a Writer: Applications of My Genius

It's painfully simple, really. I write because I can't don't can't don't draw. I express myself better through words than pictures. I use drawing when I want to make fun of people. (Yes, I'm a bit of a caricaturist.)
Yes, I draw. But I'm more likely to come up with a killer punchline for a cartoon or a caption for a picture than...you know, draw. Not that I don't like drawing. I do. A lot. I just like writing more.
At nights, when I can't won't can't sleep, I'm just there in bed composing poems like hell......I feel like a Mozart, except, y'know, for the early death and being a prodigy. I'm talented--- or so people tell me--- but I don't think I'm a prodigy.
But writing is just... I cant describe it properly. It's like my very own religious experience. When I write, it's almost as if I can see God, like God is writing through me. Don't mean to blaspheme but...maybe that's why I don't write perfect poems in one go. I write, reread, mumble "Aw dammit", edit, reread and discard it in frustration and start over. Then it's lather, rinse and repeat.
And repeat.
And repeat.
AND REPEAT.
It's frustrating as HELL.
Is this what great writers like Shakespeare, Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky had to go through to produce masterpieces such as Romeo and Juliet, Anna Karenina and my favorite, The Brothers Karamazov?

It continues to be simple, but now there's a hint of complexity.
I write because I read.
I'm a bibliophile UNDERSTATEMENT OF ALL TIME I live and breathe books. I eat, sleep and think books. Doesn't matter what type of book it is, I'll read it. It's this that got me to read shit stuff like Fifty Shades of Grey while hating girl porn and fan fiction, both of which it is....
In light of all this (and more but I won't bore you) it means that I write because I'm running out of reading material...
Yes, this happens when one has been reading since the age of one and continues to do so at the ripe old age of 16 years and 4 months. I am more well-read than most people twice my age....
And due to how I know what I like, I write what I like so I can read more of what I like.
Get it?

And.....I write because I need an outlet for these depressing thoughts of mine. Self-explanatory.

Going to class (and gonna write more than notes),

@Jaye_Eccentriq

The Vybz Kartel Saga: My Thoughts on it

So....Vybz Kartel was found guilty of murder yesterday. The really sad part of it is I missed the Twitter hullaballoo last night. I'd wanted to tweet something witty like "Worl' boss tun Worl' Ass now" or "A lone tears Kartel mussi deh pon yah now, lerl" but.....I missed it.

Anyway, he and three of his co-accused were convicted. The one yute found not guilty must be counting his blessings Kevin 2wo Krayzee style (S/O to him, #NoFksGvn). I'm happy for him. As for Kartel himself, Shawn Storm, Andre St. John and Kahira Jones (thought this was a woman; it's not...) I'm withholding my opinions, 'cause, well..... let's just say Kartel has more than a few fans (I finally get why it's short for fanatic), quite a few of whom were on my TV last night chanting "Free Worl' Boss! Free Worl' Boss!"  And, you know, I'm only sixteen. Way too young to die.
You understand what I'm trying to say?

Even though the whole point of this whole post was to air my thoughts and all but... mi fraid a mad people sah!

Adidja "Vybz Kartel" Palmer.
This man is intelligent as HELL. Like, extremely intelligent. Wasted talent intelligent. He was a Calabar boy before they kicked him out. That's how intelligent he is.

Quick note: Calabar High= THE best boys' school in Jamaica.

Now I don't listen to Kartel's music. Frankly, lyrics about how tight a woman's front is or how many shots I can leggo in a yute's chest don't entice me. But I've heard extracts of the songs while on the road and I have to admit that the man's rhyming skills are on point.

Allow me to interrupt your thoughts. Luckily for me, I got to sneak a post on FB before it was too late.... "Well all [I said was] Kartel shudda buck a gyal weh study law instead #EnuffSaid"

As it relates to Twitter posts, however I'm completely lame so I just creeped on other people's TLs. However, though the evidence seemed circumstantial, a 10-1 guilty verdict and an attempt to bribe the foreman is quite enough for me. Commenting on a thought [Jaye_Eccentriq] shared, Kartel is intelligent, but he just needs to learn to utilize his intelligence or else it's pretty useless.

And those women though need fi go find wuk fi feed dem hungry self and dem malnourished pickney [no offense to the children] *makes rude noise* I was beyond disappointed.

Yeah, that part was written by a sempai (for you non-manga lovers, it's upperclass[wo]man) by the name of Akeliah Blake (couldn't think of a proper nickname). I wonder if you happened to notice the different prosaic voices....?

Well Kartel (and the others), looks like it's "Back to Life" in prison for y'all.

Vibes cut 'cause I lost my train of thought,

@Jaye_Eccentriq

and Akeliah ^_^

Your Smile

Yes, so I'm going to make me a sloppy post.

Before I start, let me just name him Iceburg (wrong spelling, I know.). But he'll see this (because I'm sending him the link) and he's gonna smile and say "Ohhhh I see what she did there". So that's out of the way. Let me begin to be a girly-girl.

So there I was, in the photo room at school, when I was leafing through the yearbook from about 3 years ago. Right there in the 5th form graduates section, who did I see but Iceburg (and that didn't sound too excellent but whatever) with THE cutest smile ever. Now that put a smile on my face for the rest of the day, and as I'm typing this I'm still smiling.

I should probably state that I have a thing for guys with cute smiles...

Anyway, the thing is he doesn't really smile much. You know those people who laugh more than they smile? That's him. Although I've tried on so many occasion to get him to smile more often, it's been a royal fail so far but.............
I lust after that smile with every fiber of my being. Seriously.

I won't even make fun of it and say [insert rude comments I'd normally make about big tee]. 
I wish I could see his smile every single day.

I am in love with it. Hopelessly, irrevocably in love with it.
Which is a damn shame, considering....no, never mind.

Still in love with that smile,

@Jaye_Eccentriq

Ophiophobia and why I'm Ophiophobic: A Harangue against Serpents

Ophiophobia: The inexplicable fear or terror of snakes.

On second thought.....maybe I'm not ophiophobic; I can explain with perfect clarity why I'm terrified of snakes.

They're disgusting, creepy and poisonous. I don't care if they don't spew venom into my veins. They can cause my painful, slow, agonizing death. Therefore they are poisonous. If I may borrow a quote from Mark Twain's The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn: 

She despised snakes, be the breed what they might....

He may have been describing Tom's Aunt Sally, but he sure as hell could be describing me right there.

I don't care if they're garden snakes, boa constrictors or mambas. They can all kill me.

Garden snakes, if/when I see them, can cause me to run screaming for my life. While running, I might fall into an open sewer (even though there are none I know of nearby) and die. Or I may fly across the road and have a car hit me down and I die in great agony. That's why they're poisonous to me.

Boa constrictors basically hug me to death. Now, I like love hugs, but not from, y'know, animals like those. I mean, come on. Squeezing my insides out through my mouth? I think that's one of the more disturbing ways to go, and when I go (at the ripe old age of 105) I'm going out with a bang, not an "OOOWWWWWWWWW JEEZAS CHRIS' NUH MEK MI DEAD SUH". You get me?

And mambas.....if my memory serves me right (as it usually does when it comes to academia and trivia) they're the most venomous snakes ever. Need I say more?

The very thought of snakes is enough to fill mine and Excelsior's swear jars if we had any (I type as I sit here mumbling swear words to myself). They're just really.........serpentine and..... EW. Ugh. [insert bitchy behavior here]

If I had my way, they'd all be extinct (Haha, was gonna type instinct). I do not give a rat's ass whether or not they serve a purpose in the global ecosystem. DEM FI [badword badword] DEAD.

Why did Noah allow them to slither into the Ark? (For those of us who say we're Christians).

Them and mosquitoes, but that's a harangue for another day. Maybe tomorrow (I type as I wonder why Noah didn't just swat them).

I leave you with this, my personal idea of Hell.

Shuddering and still ophiophobic,

@Jaye_Eccentriq

The Wayward Genius

I am, after all, a wayward genius.
That's what they call me.
160 IQ
Apparently one less than Einstein's.
Genius.
Not just intellectually.

But I am wayward.
I stray off the path my parents blazed for me.
Unapologetic.
I'm making my own.

Put those two together
You have a potential danger.
I could use my smarts to destroy
Or I could use them for the advancement of the welfare
Of the whole human race.
The whole human race.
But I'm a misanthrope.

Unfortunately
Or fortunately, depending on how you want to look at it
My mind hasn't decided what I should do.
Yet.
It will soon.

Until then, the wayward genius rests.

@Jaye_Eccentriq

16 years

Something I wasted 10 minutes of my life doing

Story of my life. I am, indeed, a crazy bitch.
Case in point: I spent 10 minutes on Google images searching for a picture like this.

Yes, I see you laughing and shaking your head. I'm proud of my craziness. It's keeping me sane.

That. Was. The. SHELLEST. Paradox. I've ever made in my life. :)

Yeah, I've got nothing more to say...for now.

Yours crazily,

@Jaye_Eccentriq

6 Months and Counting....

What have I learned at Chesta?

I've been here for approximately... [stops to count on fingers].... 6 months. Yes, I've been here for 6 months.

But what have I learned in that 6 months?

• People will say what they want, when they want, about whoever they want. Case in point: No powers on earth can tell anyone here that such yute and I aren't a couple. Let me just set it straight. Again.

Such yute (I think I'll just call him Excelsior. He'll read this, and he'll smile.) and I aren't together. I like male company. I'm a confessed misogynist. Therefore, I am going to hang out with him based primarily on the fact that he has a penis. We have a lot in common, but then we're just SO different. Plus we have the silence (see some other post I made recently). Not to mention the fact that he has the most comfortable shoulders I have ever had the privilege of resting on in my life.

Why wouldn't I associate closely with him, based on all I just said? Come on.....plus I have a boyfriend and he has a pretty-much girlfriend. 

Everyone knows this. So why do they still feel like saying "Yow, [Excelsior] and Shari-Jo deh, Jah know..." This is why I don't like people much, and why I hate girls.

• Out of sight, out of mind. Friendships are cemented by how often you see each other. I haven't spoken to some of my Bishops friends in SO. DAMN. LONG. And that list includes those who swore a sister pact with me. (Yes I went to an all-girls school for 5 years. That is also why I hate girls.)
• What others think about you is not important. It's what you think of yourself that really matters.

Now, in all fairness to the school, I haven't been here for very long, so I can't learn very much. But I will be keeping my eyes, ears and mind open. I'll be sure to let you know.

And now arrives Excelsior with his chin on my head. No, wait....he's beside me now. This is gonna make for a very interesting hour.

Smiling, and about to chat like hell despite the fact that I'm hoarse,

@Jaye_Eccentriq

An Award Ceremony....and being sick

Yes. I am sick. I have been sick this past weekend, and as such, my writing has taken leave of my senses (which have taken leave of me).

It all started on Friday. I went to Kingston, which I must say is hot on a level with Hell. As opposed to Mandeville, which is just blissfully cold, Kingston is like being thrown headfirst into a pot of superheated water.

But I went to Kingston to some award ceremony hosted by the Caribbean Examinations Council. Now I went because I got the 2nd highest grade in the land for French and as such merited an award. Yay me, I guess. The best part of this whole thing is that my family is proud and my friends are prouder (kinda ironic still but whatever...)

So I went, with the intention to scout out for any cute rich smart guys (another story in itself) and I probably shouldn't have written this but hell, my boyfriend doesn't read. I saw none. NONE AT ALL.
Let me tell you something. Kingston boys are not cute. They just aren't. So that was a day wasted, basically. All I got was an admittedly good-looking certificate. WHERE THEY SPELLED MY DAMN NAME WRONG.
For the record, my name is Shari-Jo. Capital J. NOT Shari-jo or any other deviations. Cho.

Upon leaving this ceremony which was a waste of time because all I did was get pissed and hungry (I ate twice in 24 hours, a first), I stopped at Domino's. Hallelujah. I can't even document that experience. Let's just say it involved cheesy bread and large pizza. :)

Anyway...the climate change did a hella number on my sinuses, leaving me pretty much unable to breathe for that night. Saturday was a bit better, except for the coughing. Sunday I kind of relapsed.
Now here's the bitch of it all. Today's a school day, and all that's wrong with me is I'm hoarse. How shitty can my life get?

What I hate about being sick is the fact that I don't get sick very often but when I do....in my mother's words, "come in like yuh ago dead." Jah know, it was awful.

But the positives of last weekend were that I'm $2800 richer (thank God for people who buy me food), I did no chores......and I got the motivation I needed to say "Fuck you Campionites" and make it onto the merit list. Again.

Yours in achievement,

@Jaye_Eccentriq