Live, Love, and Hate – by Orpheus

Week 16 – Crumpled Sketches

Well, one crumpled sketch, anyway. And even that was a complete accident. I mean, I really didn’t mean to, but it was stuck in my folder at the wrong angle when I closed it, so now there’s a crease running down Eurydice’s head. That’s not good, that’s very not good. Wow, to hear me talk about it, it’s almost like I think that Eurydice is a real person, or something. I really need to get my head on straight, but, hey, I suppose that is why I started writing Live, Love, and Hate, after all…

Where to begin, Where to begin… I suppose that I should begin with this: I’m not sure whether I should be impressed or disappointed that it took one day for people to start asking me if I really did stab that guy in my bio class. The simple answer is this: yes, yes I did. But you know what? He had it coming. If the first six months of telling him just to shut his fucking mouth didn’t work, maybe stabbing him will finally get Grant to learn when he’s overstepping his boundaries. But in my defense: I didn’t mean to actually hurt him. I meant to stop just short, you know, to scare the Hell out of him. Unfortunately, he raised his arm up to block the compass, and so it kinda punctured his skin. But I must say, it is kinda cool that people who don’t even know him are taking my side and saying that he deserved it (people like L. And R doesn’t much seem to care, either, which I must say that I find that a little bit unnerving). The student teacher in the class decided not to report us to the Counselors, so that’s cool. The real teacher probably would have, but she’s on maternity leave right now.

But I must say, I’m getting fucking sick of people giving me lectures. Mr. Antrobus giving me lectures on how I need to learn to control myself, and that he ‘really expected better of me’. My goddamn bitch of a math teacher told me the same thing when I only got a 97% on a test instead of the 103% that she wanted me to get. Well you know what? Fuck that. Don’t expect anything better from me. I’ve never been good at controlling myself, and I really don’t care to be. I mean, after all, it gets people to leave me alone, which is really what I want. The really good part is that those assholes who took that brief moment of chaos (what with the stabbing and all) to start peddling pot to the other students don’t bother me. I mean, so what if it’s just because they’re worried that I’d gouge their eyes out like I was threatening to do to Grant.

Wow, you know, going back and reading that, I really sound like some kind of psychotic killer or something. Rest assured, I am not. I’m really more neurotic than psychotic, and I’ve never killed anyone. Hell, the stabbing thing yesterday was the first time that I’d ever really hurt someone. But despite the above paragraph, I’m not proud of what I’ve done, not in the least. It was disgusting, crude, and animalistic. However, I must say that the choice of weaponry (a broken compass [the kind you use for drawing circles, not finding North]) bespeaks of a goodly amount of bottled up rage and anger, and the method of delivery (stabbing) speaks of lots of emotion and passion.

Ugh, there I go over analyzing myself again. That was exactly the problem with the original J. Yes, the original J. The description was sufficiently vague to fit two people. One of them I decided not to use because, well, as per always I’m quite uncomfortable with that section of my past. I mean, it’s not like anything happened, but I really just... I dunno... I guess I kinda felt... Well, my resolutions to not be so violent/mean/cruel and not to swear anymore just aren’t turning out well. That’s about it for this week, I think.

For Week 16, this is Orpheus, signing out. Send Eurydice, or e-mails, to [email protected] if you’d be so kind.