Dang, "worst," is such a weird word I'm just staring at it wondering.
So today was the State Mathcounts competition, of which my team got fifth place. AKA not even those crazy pointy medals! Not that we deserved it. I completely sucked. Maybe it was because I got up at 6:30, but it's not like I don't do that every school day.
The lesson I learned from that is that I'm definitely not as good at math as I may fool myself. And that was a little second-guessing thing there, because I realized ... I'm not that good at anything.
Sure, I can draw. But there are so many people I know {even Violet} who are better than me or just as good. I don't draw much anymore, because I can't find much motivation to, even with my new sketchbook and colored pencils. I can't touch anything.
Like with writing. I've been trying so hard to keep writing stories like I used to, but they just stopped. And there are so many people better at writing than me. I'm not even that good, and I can't write a persuasive essay anymore.
What about music? I can write a song, but when you think about it, I'm so immature when it comes to that and I'm never going to be good as people are.
Those are probably my best traits there. Here and there there's stuff I can do. I can argue, but I can't think fast. I can play sports, but I'm a klutz.
"Would you rather be the worst of the best or the best of the worst?" is a common question everyone stumps each other on.
Great, I'm both.
"You're empathetic," says Danica in her latest gift to me. I looked it up because, after all, my spellingness doesn't include definitions. It means I know what people are going through ... i.e. I understand.
Probably because I've been through it before. There's not much that hasn't happened to me.
So Georgie calls me on the phone, and can tell by the way I say "Hey," that I'm not feeling so good. I tell her it's just one of those weird groggy days, and she's like "I totally know, right?" and phrases exactly what I'm feeling.
I nod and think I'm not the only empathetic, either.
So today was the State Mathcounts competition, of which my team got fifth place. AKA not even those crazy pointy medals! Not that we deserved it. I completely sucked. Maybe it was because I got up at 6:30, but it's not like I don't do that every school day.
The lesson I learned from that is that I'm definitely not as good at math as I may fool myself. And that was a little second-guessing thing there, because I realized ... I'm not that good at anything.
Sure, I can draw. But there are so many people I know {even Violet} who are better than me or just as good. I don't draw much anymore, because I can't find much motivation to, even with my new sketchbook and colored pencils. I can't touch anything.
Like with writing. I've been trying so hard to keep writing stories like I used to, but they just stopped. And there are so many people better at writing than me. I'm not even that good, and I can't write a persuasive essay anymore.
What about music? I can write a song, but when you think about it, I'm so immature when it comes to that and I'm never going to be good as people are.
Those are probably my best traits there. Here and there there's stuff I can do. I can argue, but I can't think fast. I can play sports, but I'm a klutz.
"Would you rather be the worst of the best or the best of the worst?" is a common question everyone stumps each other on.
Great, I'm both.
"You're empathetic," says Danica in her latest gift to me. I looked it up because, after all, my spellingness doesn't include definitions. It means I know what people are going through ... i.e. I understand.
Probably because I've been through it before. There's not much that hasn't happened to me.
So Georgie calls me on the phone, and can tell by the way I say "Hey," that I'm not feeling so good. I tell her it's just one of those weird groggy days, and she's like "I totally know, right?" and phrases exactly what I'm feeling.
I nod and think I'm not the only empathetic, either.
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