November 25, 2004

Another day. Another fucked up day, with fucked up thoughts in our fucked up world.

I think everything is fucked up, therefore I am as well.

But that's not new now is it? Course not.

It's been nearly 2 weeks. For a while I thought I was making progress. For a while I thought I may have begun on a path that would lead to the abolishment of my mental malady.

And, like so much, I am wrong. Now, there are 2 problems in my life to deal with. Two wars being waged inside my mind, simultaneously yet wrecking their own form of destruction.

This one has fought itself into the forefront of mind, consuming it at every chance it gets, every time I let my guard down or just welcome its pain and sorrow.

My life, for various reasons, was jump-started 3 years ago, when my parents seperated. In a span of only a couple months, I was forced to mature rapidly, like a number of years. Responsibilities to family and home took precedence over many things, like friends. When they would get together after school somewhere, I would have to go home to let the dogs out. In the winter, if my Dad had to work late and I had to stay at school for whatever reason, I'd tramp through the snow and slush, just to let the dogs out for 10 minutes before I'd have to let them in and head back to the school.

This consumed me. I had too many responsibilities for someone my age. There were too many things to be done, and they labored me. This led to my downfall, as well as another problem.

My community, if you want to call it that. Or, to be exact, the large drug and alcohol problem in it.

For some reason, be it mental block or maturity, I cannot understand how the problem can be so big, yet still go away. Everywhere you go, you hear about kids, some as young as 12, doing drugs or knocking back beers with reckless abandon. When people should be doing something with their lives, they kill off their brains, one drink or one puff at a time.

The police and authorities know about this.

Yet they do nothing.

At our school, one of the main issues to be addressed is the one of bullying, since according to the administration it's the biggest problem. Why not go after the illegal problem, people stumbling through the week just to get a beer in their hands and drink the weekend away.

Do they not care? Obviously not.

I can only wonder what they do in that staff room.

This is the new one, which I realized only recently. But, now that I think about it, I've been doing this for a long time.

I am annoying. I am a pesterer.

I am lonely, that is certain. Society doesn't give a shit about me. So, I try to make myself apart of it, to some degree.

That's the problem right there. Everything happens on my side of the table. I'm always the one making up plans. I'm always the person asking other people if they want to do something.

Everything happens from me, yet never reaches them.

It's hard to think of when somebody came to me, offered ME the hand.

For once, it would be nice to have someone help me out, instead of me asking them for it.

Oh, who am I kidding. I'm trying to go against the social norm, my exile. All the signs are there, all the clues and pieces to the puzzle.

I am not wanted.

They say that democracy is the best form of government around. They say that it is the purest.

I should just leave then.

I can't do anything about my maturity; it's not going anywhere. I'm an adult trapped in a teenage body, watching teenagers with child minds everywhere, making all the rules.

What about me? Am I too insignificant to get a little help? Am I not what is expected from a teenager, too mature or too smart?

I will be fine once I reach adulthood, but I may be too lost before I even get there. Aim for the future, but preserve the present.

I need to be accepted. I need people to care. But society, the many, they need me to be gone.

Who am I to stand in the way of the world?

If I am unwanted, tell me now, and I will go about my way.

November 13, 2004

I write this with no reason in mind, yet with everything on the line. I write, as I have things to say, yet cannot think of any other way to say. I write, as this is the only way I can reach my salvation.

Some of you that read this, will know already of some of the things that I am about to say. Others, will know none of it. Hopefully, in the end, you will know of the personal hell my life has become.

I don't even know where to begin. So much to talk about, that this will jump from point to point to point. Non-linearized, yet that is how writing should be. You can't institutionalize somebody's mind, somebody's creativity, like people want to.

I, Nick Pellett, am a man of three lives. The first one, the public face. The Nick Pellett that goes to school, writes tests, talks to people, and goes to his job. The second, the writer. The part unlike the rest, coming into his own in the past year, giving the first life a way of expression, in at least some form.

The third, the emotional wreck, where all the bad feelings go. Where all the stress, anger, sadness, all goes. This life, created out of desperation and need, so that the first life can keep going, can move forward and continue the work that has been assigned.

Everyone says that when you have a problem, you are expected to talk to somebody about it, get it off your chest. Else, it would consume you.

But what if you have no one to talk to? What if you have so much anger and frustration with society, yet nobody in the society will listen?

That is my plight. That is the battle that I face on a nearly daily basis. That is my beef with society, why I detest it so dearly, yet want to help it just as much.

Society, in my mind, is screwed up. It's a mess, a world where anything that can happen, will happen. Wars, drugs, killings. All taking place on a nearly constant basis, all dominating the news. There are no happy stories anymore, just stories of remorse, of sadness, of grief. You turn on the radio, and there is a story of a killing. You turn on the TV, and their running the latest events in Iraq. Open the newspaper, and the headline is of the latest drug bust.

That, in part, is magnified where I live.

My area, while not big, is not small either. There are many teens my age, all plodding their way through High School, writing the tests like I do, going to work like I do, yet with the wrong reasons in mind. I get the grades and get the money to go to school, get a higher education and do something with my life.

Everyone else, nearly everyone else, go through the motions, in order to reach one end. The weekend.

And all the alcohol and drugs that come with them.

Despite all the warnings, despite all the fucking tragedies that take place, they still drink, unchecked. I hear all the time about people driving home after having a drink, underage, in the middle of the night. They laugh about it then, but they don't know what they did. They could have crashed. One blink, that's how long it takes for a car to go off the road and into a tree. One drop of whisky, to make you fall asleep at the wheel.

Of everywhere in the world, why do I have to be in one such as this? A place with all the warnings in place, yet people so blind and ignorant that they shrug them off. Something bad happens, and they don't see the reason behind it. Underage drinking, and the use of drugs, is running rampant. There are no checks and balances to stop all of it. The police, most of the time they do nothing. They just say "kids will be kids." How is that supposed to help the situation? How is letting underage drinking spread and consume, when you have the power to stop it, making it better?

It doesn't. People break the law all the time, yet bitch and whine when they are caught. When you deal with the police, it's kinda like a game. You perform the criminal act, and the Police's job is to catch you. If you get away, congrats, you won this time. You get caught, well shut up and deal with it. Whining about getting a ticket for speeding? Well, you were breaking the law, and the cop had all the authority to pull you over. Stop bitching about breaking a rule that everyone abides by. Actions have consequences.

Yet still they move forward, living for the present, burning all the bridges. Practically everyone drinks or does drugs. It's apart of society. If you don't do these things, you're not apart of society.

And you know what, I'm happy about that. And I'm saddened by that.

Such is the war that I wage. My detest to be with society, yet my longing for inclusion. My morals, versus my sanity. And society hasn't helped out at all.

Rarely do people come up to me, wanting to be with me. More often than I want, I'm the one moving to be with people. Most of the time, when the hand is offered in my direction, it is not for me.

It's for my mind.

Everyone knows that I'm smart. Everyone knows that I can do some things, see certain objects in a certain way, that they can't see. The title of Genius has been thrown my way a couple of times. At first I tried to stop it, but that went nowhere fast. It's hard to change public perception. When people come up to me, they do so hoping to get help with something. They wonder about how to deal with a question, how do get from point A to point B on an assignment. They wonder how I am so smart, and all they have to do is look me.

But they don't want to. Once they're done picking my mind, they're gone. Poof, disappeared in a flash. I am not wanted. My mind is, the body is, but not the soul, not the combination of the three.

Maybe this is just the stress. The stress of the role I play in society. My place, my position. I live in an adult world, I have adult responsibilities, yet I'm only 17. I've had these duties for a couple of years. They've changed me, changed how I deal with issues.

Maybe this will help, with the understanding.