Asleep

Dear you,

I dont really know who you are but you probably exist and as soon as I manage to pull your name out of my hat I'll make sure to contact you and send you lots of real letters, because I think real letters are great. There is this thing I do, a lot, and its calld 'saving drafts'. yes, I'm writing you emails about me and I never send them out because I'm not sure who to address these crappy emails to. I hope you are not a ghost in my head because I have read a short story about an old lady blaming demons and ghosts for her severe Alzheimer . Im not nearly as old.

The school year has started 13 days ago and I see how the typical 'magic' and shine fade off and away like the memory of a late nights' dream. It has started very numb , I still walk the halls of my high school unconsciously, like the same ghosts Im afraid of finding in my closet. I saw many people I chose to forget over the summer not because they have done me any harm but because their presence reminded me of hypocritical sickening sweet candy corn apples which I always hated terribly (even though they were always very tempting). Im sure you would find it nice to hear that I haven't joined the Ambulance crew for my extracurricular activity (I couldnt bear the thought of making a decision quite yet), or a grade four counselor  boy at the 'Nests' political organization kids center. I need to find a place to have my community service hours done, though.

School? School. I almost freaked when I mowed and looked at the word 'school' the other day and started rephrasing it and making it into a 'shcool' , Im pretty sure this is not the correct way of seeing things especially when my scheduel is filled with 7 weekly hours of Math, 4 of Physics, 3 of Biology and 2 Chemistry. Science is not on my side, Houston? I dont know
. I'm yelling " WAKE UP, WAKE UP!" over and over to myself and Im still numb. I am watching my life from the outside and I cant manage to move a step forward. I postponed every single decision need to be made and never took that drums lessons I was yearning to take. Im munching over the same old thoughts and I cant seem to slap myself back into life. You see, Im too over whelmed by High School and all so I figured to give it some time and postpone the freaking out and do save it for later.

My new teacher told me Im not participating in life and she is so correct that it hurts, that Im not willing to step out of myself and take chances. I knew that without needing to hear it from her.


My pretty little blond sister just sat next to me 10 minutes ago, we've been head- to- head teasing eachother with her dancing to all the stupid music I let her listen to but somehow when she sank next to me on the couch she didnt seem like a foe. She held some litretaure paper I later discovered was a biography of this writer they have been talking about in class. First, I didnt pay attention to her vivid telling but when I caught the second rough sentence peeping out of her mouth, I asked her to start from the beginning, you know how those kids are when it comes to telling a story. She said this female writer they learned about lost her Father at the age of 5 and their assignment was to write a summary of her biography.  Then, suddenly,  a kid bursted out crying in the middle of  class complaining how he lost his Father at the age of four and nobody wrote a Biography about him. Her eyes got sadder by the minute. He said that it would be nice if people asked him how he were and how he felt about it every once in a while and the other kids said that they thougt it was a fragile topic and didnt want to hurt him or remind him of something that he has to carry with hime everyday already.

When she finished describing the torn kid and his breakdown in class I offered her to write him a note, like a secret santa note, anonymously, and ask him how he was and write him funny things. She agreed that she would make as many nice notes as his secret admirer as she could manage and we really had a moment of sympathy,there. Plus, I just think I found my community service oppurtonity, while writing this.

I already have another post in the making and I didnt even say too much about my day or yesterday or the charming books Im now reading.

Love always,

Mat