zap zap.

The quiet descent into madness.

This isn't pertaining to the SAT that I take in a couple of hours, or my endless hatred towards the College Board.

More of a general statement because people are so desperate for recognition.

I don't know, maybe it's because I walked around town while the little middle schoolers got their kicks with their friends. I felt ages older than I usually do, taller, manlier, again. I looked in the glass door to Starbucks and saw that the cold had turned my skin to a literal sick yellow.

Perhaps that an overstatement.

I'm sick of having to make social quotas with people or falling out because of my desire to be alone. I do believe I am a loner, but I do believe that I love people. A juxtaposition. Quite frankly, I'm sick of the depressive bullshit that I have to endure throughout the alleged "best years of my life".

No, I am not depressed. Do I have an pessimistic outlook on the world? Yes, as a defensive mechanism in order to ease the cynic heart.

Entirely a cynic, I am.

I have developed into a people watcher, though most notice and are off-put by it. Usually I am agitated because I can hear them chomp, snap and chew through whatever they're funneling through in order to rid their mouth of lack of toothpaste, beer, semen, whatever. I want to know where they went so awry from the innocent days.

How does the innocent five year old, with bright eyes to the world ahead, toy in hand and in velcro shoes, grow to become an overly promiscuous, beer in hand and in stiletto heels? What was the catalyst? Why?

How does that innocent five year old grow to hate him or herself? What happened to innate optimism and the love for bright colours, cheery voices and happy music? When did they decide to shut the blinds and lights, staying cooped up in their room?

In short, I am fed up with others giving up. I am sarcastic when it comes to SAT, claiming failure and deterioration, but I will never give up.

I've been called weak and lazy before. Weak, I am not. I've never considered myself weak, not even in the physical sense.

My spine has never broken, my brain never melted, my posture never shattered.

I stood tall, growing confidence from year to year, brushed the hair out of my face. I rubbed the dirt in the wound and dealt with it privately.

My mental resistance has soared because of my persistence; I intend to keep it that way.

I am a stubborn bitch with too much pride.

I refuse to go down quietly. If you are to kill me, I will make sure my scream is heard forever.

Because mental illness and stress are man made labels; standardization and evaluation are society's bounds.

Strength, courage and an ego will go far in this life. Not your inability to see past a "disease".

I have no idea why I keep writing things like this.