During my last year in high school which was recently.
I took AP Psychology, after being sweet talked into the
class the year before by my US History who was the psych.
teacher as well. Most of the stuff we went over was okay to
learn but it help prove to some people that they are even more
******** up then they had originally thought about themselves.
Me included in this group. Anyway, we had little or close to no
homework besides doing an essay that made us use some of the
vocabulary from the chapter we were working on. Here is part of one
of the essay or story I came up with that I continued on into 5 part totaled.
I took AP Psychology, after being sweet talked into the
class the year before by my US History who was the psych.
teacher as well. Most of the stuff we went over was okay to
learn but it help prove to some people that they are even more
******** up then they had originally thought about themselves.
Me included in this group. Anyway, we had little or close to no
homework besides doing an essay that made us use some of the
vocabulary from the chapter we were working on. Here is part of one
of the essay or story I came up with that I continued on into 5 part totaled.
Anti-Emo
Part 5
I’m actually starting to notice a change in how I feel lately. My attitude is more uplifted and not so dark, not so brooding. As I continue to go to Mr. Masker, he doesn’t seem to be so much a pain as he was when I first started to see him. I basically stereotyped him as soon as Lynn introduced me to him. I became prejudiced against him for doing his job like the others before him. I thought that he was only there to pick at me and tell me that it is all in my head like the others from the home. I’m still unsure as to why he cares so much, if he does at all. I’m slowly letting go of what is bothering me and stressing me out. I’m a little ashamed of myself for discriminating against him and not letting him do the job Lynn hired him for.
So, I know I don’t really fit with in the “social schema,” though I never really cared that much about fitting within the group identity. I can tell that Lynn is proud of me for learning to overcome the blocks that hinder me from finding my personal identity. The idea of conforming to someone’s idea of what you should be does a great deal to build my enormous amount of frustration for those that believe that “attraction” should be based on peoples’ appearance. It makes me wonder if we are no better than the animals we feed upon for life.
I feel that the obedience I give my friends is a little difficult when it seems that my idea of fun doesn’t really involve terrorizing the little old ladies in the park as much. Still, my self-fulfilling prophecy is making as many people uncomfortable in the world as I can from my teenage to maybe mid-twenties years. That thought having been seen, they grab at their weak hearts as either Johnny or I sit in the bench across from them and make up for the fact that I’m a boy in killer boots and a perfect length mini skirt. It gets a bit repetitive after seeing them do it for so many years now.
I really don’t know if reciprocity is working for me. I don’t think there is a lot of liking going on now that we are older. We don’t meet up as much to hang out. Our little group of outcast kids has gone from a healthy number of 12 members to a sickly number of five and a half. I say half because Ethan has missed out a lot since he started to go to college. Maybe the proximity of our ages is catching up to our maturity. Or prosocial behavior is working, now that Ethan has taken the initiative to be responsible. Now, the rest of us want to be as well.
I look around me at our small five and a half member group that is lofting around the grassy hill we sit on now. I sigh some at the fact I’m actually taking my meds. I feel gross and sleepy more often, and so tired that sometimes I skip out on our hanging out sessions—sessions that help me feel a bit better after being in school for a total of forty-one hours. The relaxation I feel with them is unmatched; well, it can only be matched by the small addiction I have to cookie dough ice cream that Lynn shamelessly supplies when she goes groceries shopping every weekend.
I glance out to the sunset before us to see Johnny holding Ethan in a headlock. Their red and black hair mingles so close together that a person walking pass us couldn’t tell who had which hair color. I flash the two that are rough housing with a smirk before running over to tackling them both to the ground in a quick hit-and-run attack before taking shelter in Quinn’s lap. Her lips pass my temple with a ghostly brush as she laughs, wrapping her arms tightly around me. Smiling to myself as I take in the scent of the perfume she is wearing today, I allow my eyes to drift closed with content as we watch and listen to Julias toss her stuffed dog into the pile and her twin brother Louis scoops her off the ground to add even more.
I soak in the feeling of joy while I can before the crisp summer sun drops below the horizon for the night. Gathering our things, we made the short hike to the bus stop. It was movie night and we were fully going to enjoy seeing some independent film playing tonight. We’d watch a gory movie over popcorn, drink our fill of sugary drinks, and make stupid commentaries about the film and the people watching. Smiling as Johnny loops his arm around my waist, sticking his tongue out at Ethan, Quinn makes a quick steal at my lips and last Julias thawps Ethan with her stuffed dog. Chuckling to myself as I find a seat on the bus, I smirk at my friends as they continue to horse around. A great deal of joy surfaces in my chest…..
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Your grammar is actually really nice, too.
I'm not quite sure how to comment on this, it was an essay though? Near the end it seemed to drift off as a story, which I actually really liked, because it seemed to give off a really nice example to me.
I have a feeling we may have been taught how to do essays differently, I've drifted just a bit from what they taught me in school though.
I like your writing style quite a bit, keep it up. ^^