Theatricals of a Modern Teenager.

The Theatricals of a Modern Teenager

I am not a happy boy, Though the art of deception may seem strong on my outer workings, my smile and stature may put off the foxes of questioning whether there truly is something wrong with me, but if someone was to dwell deep into my own inner cognitive workings they may only begin to comprehend this “art style” of such deception and realise that I am a self-incriminating case of whatever may bully my mind, like a thunderous storm of blows to the head within, where no-one; no peers, friends, parents or the average passer-by, may be enticed to learn the real reason for the formation of the frown stitched perfectly on my face, only if they dwell deeper they may begin to comprehend the inner workings my mind.

Every day of my life I make the subtle effort to “live, thrive and survive” every day, and though it may take a small toll on my physical capabilities, my mind is not so strong. Every day, my mind will introduce a new form of need. For example, today, it was the thought for something more in my life, the matter of the fact is that I will then battle such thought all day making judgement upon myself on whether I am worth such “addition”, I will relentlessly do this until such thought dissipates and re-appear another day for another storm of blows against my ever-making judgement. I guess this is what millennial’s would call “keeping the demons at bay,” there are times though where I will allow myself to believe that these “demons” are friendly and only my inner sanity attempting to make my own existence a little more pacifying, but me being the stubborn character I am to be, I fluster these thoughts with small strides of my shoulder as if some dirt was to be festered there.

There some part of me that questions myself too, I do not know who, what and where nor how but I know it’s there, deep inside slowing me down, this type of act will be the art of procrastination and this driving force within me is the source, or the “belly of the beast” as it may come to some people. There is no way to battle this monster, no knight in shining armour; it is something everyone must deal in their own manner. This is usually tackled with the trick of self-motivation or determination towards a goal that one may possess. In my own personal account my own motivation is driven from the quote stated earlier to “live, thrive and survive.” To only just get by or do the bare-minimum so that people may only take notice of what I did to the task given and there to be no expectation for a little more because I completed it to “bare-minimum.”

Within my mind, I constantly question this “force” on the day it will die out and I will be free to accomplish anything that I may sought out to achieve for my own goals, but alas, no such day exists. There is only a subtle pinch of external motivation, that may sprinkle itself for one moment where I will actually do something that I put my mind too which is out of the ordinary or completely out of the blue and not part of my “system” of events that I must complete and this is where my excitement or enthusiasm may occur, as I stated, this is very seldom but a very bittersweet moment for myself as I may go too far with such enthusiasm and discriminate the patience of others and then lose control and then the enthusiasm for being such thing due to an imminent scalding that may occur from any given person In the vicinity, and people ask why do I always look so pissed off?

As a child, I was a sweet, blonde, bowl cut chubbster, who I guess made people smile. I remember having a thought of excitement and fuzziness every time I had heard my father’s car pull up on the driveway of the quaint little house my parents had owned. This feeling dissipated over the years, slowly and surely I lost interest for my father’s homecoming and would only go downstairs if it was required, not for the greeting of my father but, to get a glass of water for existence, then I would greet him and then make the effort to climb the stairs and lock myself in my bedroom and again sulk for the rest of the day of my own personal lonesome life. Furthermore as a child, I liked to believe I had always adopted a rather swell childhood, from playing with my personal Lego collection in my bedroom, this to be my source of creativity, or play in the alley behind my house. Here there is a stream that is known famously as the border between Staffordshire and Derbyshire. Within this stream I would build dams, catch frogs, light fires or swing on the home built rope-swing I put up myself.

During my childhood I never had a good school life, school was not to be the basis of my favourite place, and in fact I despised it. Both the atmosphere and people, sure there were a select few that I would only just get on with but the rest, a different story, I was not the best looking boy in the world when it came to body shape and facial features. In fact I was fat and ugly for harsher terms, and this fact is what gave me a living hell in primary school all the way to the final years, though it was hell, it, like everything, had its moments. These points in my time here where I would enjoy it, for example; In year four I was chosen to be the new school council along with a girl that I had fallen in love with since she joined in reception. I do not wish to name her. But the council meetings made me feel good, something was different about this girl, I still, to this day never understood what. But she made me feel good.

The bullying obviously continued, I had no power against it, it was always the older years that did it, but it was relentless, which so forth, brought about my parents decision to bring me out of my current school and be placed into another one of higher stature, where the head teachers were not fucking his employees in his private office and the school not needing “improvement”.in all honesty, I liked my new school, it had, again, the select few that I only would get on with. I liked it, every lunch time I would play football with my new found friends, sure as the new kid I would get cheered on but I always knew the only reason this had been done was to make me feel more welcome, or because the teacher always kept an eye on me personally. I enhance my skills in Maths and English. I became friendlier with other students; my frown had not formed itself yet. It was my little paradise. Until the end of this paradise dawned a ghastly shadow and here forth began the start of secondary school.

In secondary school, my time here, again, was bittersweet. I hated it and liked it for numerous reasons. I progressed further and fucked up even more until I eventually reached my current permanent state of depression or whatever anyone would choose to call it, self-loathing sounds more enticing. This occurred around year eight, I believe the cause for such syndrome was puberty but to my knowledge it was not supposed to affect anyone as hard as it did to me. But, in this new school, I learned something new about myself. I was rather talented in the art of craftsmanship within the workshop. I made friends with the DT teacher, every lunch time I would join him in the shop for a new project, these consisted of: a Batman clock, speaker system, a Bat-signal. It was here I felt myself. Every lunch time I came, but alas it only lasted forty minutes. Then I was back to the everyday grind of secondary school.

During my time in this phase of my life, I only grew worse, my motivation for anything dissipated, I became a dick, my friendships shredded, and my family had lost their little boy. This “boy” was now dead. Never to be seen again, times change, only my new found personality could deal and execute tasks with such change. In my opinion, I like the new me. I am more self-asserted and have a driving force that I do not believe was present in my previous life. I was a new person; there is no going back on such change, only forward. I became more self-aware and eventually my “famous frown” formed. I grew bigger and stronger, taller and broader. Up until the point where I was the biggest person in the school, I was feared. I do not know whether I liked this feeling but I remember the day, it all happened, it was a PE lesson and I was walking down the corridor when I became pissed off at the world, nothing was good enough, I wanted more valued materialistic belongings, I wanted more out of my life, this feeling of desire and disappointment, only grew worse, I would only be happy once my desires were met, this “fake happiness” only lasted as long as the novelty of the item lasted until I required even more, I was greedy in a world of materialistic treasures, then one day I would find I would want something else and this greed festered. It is a feeling I hate, but endure, I grew up in a new world of technology, I was a millennial, of course I wanted more, especially when you're born into a country where anything is possible with the right money. In simpler terms, I am and was an expensive child.

I am the biggest failure to my family; then, now and forevermore. I was never able to apply myself to a situation which may proceed my life to be a little easier and so forth I only made things more difficult, I only cared and cared about myself, if something benefitted me I would take it, I was and am rude, ignorant and obnoxious. These are my most off coming traits, deep down I can only imagine this shade of traits were to cover up the person I am inside, timid and not self-confident at all, nothing to give me the feeling of being wanted anywhere nor the bravery to talk to a girl, so forth I have never had a girlfriend, and in all honesty I do not expect to, I am not the most attractive character to produce a healthy relationship between me and some girl. I do not believe in soul mates, I only believe in what may satisfy my own needs and not the needs of others, because, again, I am greedy.

Such greed only begins to entice more and so forth I dropped my materialistic possessions, no I did not become a religious man but I did indeed begin to go to church, I would not sing, not participate in the service. I would just sit there and listen, there was always something about the preaching that made me think, even absorb some of the messages into my own life, to make myself a better person, but this is to be a slow, pain enduring process. For you cannot just remove the significant aspects of a person without causing any side effects, and in my case, I was brought upon by the matter of distortion and broken mindedness. I quit the church gatherings and went back to my jail-cell of a bedroom, and once again, hit the self-loathing part of my life once again. I began having darker thoughts and my mind no longer was sound. I would dream about horrific events that I do not wish to describe only that I would wake up in tears. I was scared and every time I saw something or someone of interest I know longer thought about them in normal, everyday moments; but in darker, increasingly more twisted thoughts. It was these thoughts that broke me inside but alas my outside was the same frowning character constantly portrayed itself as it had always been, for years upon end.

You see, the mind is not what people may expect. I don't quite know what the mind may be truly capable of, the biggest danger is that of self-destruction, the act upon one’s self to cause harm to their life. It is a vast, dark world inside one’s mind. This may only develop to become darker or in rare cases lighter with the aid of external events, things that make normal people happy. The matter of the fact is, no matter what good happened to me or around me, I would stay the same, I could not come back from my own mind, I was broken, perhaps lost, forever.

I never got over such dreams but they did begin to dissipate only with the cause of darker times for myself, I began losing sleep then eventually the will to accomplish the simplest of tasks. I was only getting worse, I began to fear what may happen if I do not help myself anytime soon, but I never found the right reason to, again the mind, and its self-destructive nature was taking its course once more. I had to do something soon, but I never did. I stopped seeing my friends outside of school; I lost contact, my behaviour inside school worsened. My family began to notice something was wrong, my attitude was off, but so forth this only pushed them way and eventually began to break my family chain. My family was no longer neither happy nor healthy. I would argue without quitting with my mother, father, brother and family friends. I lost the respect of people altogether. No-one understood.

Eventually, I became increasingly aggressive towards my peers and family. I always desired to have my own way, and in many cases would. However I reached that point was up to my mood that day, I could either be diplomatic and be calm or the complete opposite and act like a twat to ensure that in every situation I was right and everyone else was wrong. This, again, began to further distant my relationships with the people around me. There were some moments where I would manage to calm down and go with the flow but me with my boisterous personality, this was a rare occasion. No-one understood what went on in my head and why I was the person I was, and so forth I continued to be the ignorant twat I am and was. There was no changing who I was in the near future. No matter how hard anyone tried.

At the age of thirteen I began training at the gym, in a futile attempt to change my body. At this age I was still the fat kid. I hated it. I will always remember what I had worn to the gym, an old pair of brown felt shorts, woolly sock, a shirt, school shoes and my batman hoodie. In case no-one had realised, I was a Batman geek. In fact, there was a moment of my life where I wished to be Batman, but this was a child’s dream, and dreams never come true in this world. I started off by only using the treadmill and rightfully so, I became self-conscious and started worrying about the looks I was being given in the gym room itself. I left the gym and walked home, I did not like such judgemental feelings over my shoulder, so forth I did not return for another year.

People just expect you to brush such judgemental feelings of and move on with your life and do things how you will. This is not true. This is a lie. It’s impossible. You can’t just throw something as heavy as that of yourself. In truth it hurts. It hurts inside and has the effect to demoralise a person and so forth that’s exactly what it did to me. I lost more confidence that day than ever in my life, even to the time of writing this scripture; I still do not have it back. I became hunched over, trying to hide myself from the world, only thing is that due to it being an unusual posture, everyone did the exact opposite of what I wanted them to do and they just stared. From here I could never go out wearing just a shirt, I always had to wear a hoodie. I never went swimming again unless it was in the sea or a lake. Even then I would wear a shirt over the top to hide myself. Still, it did not work for me. I only got worse. I lost my social skills once more, and never travelled outside unless it was truly required.

I remember, during my time as this shallow character, my mother constantly scalding me, telling me to “straighten up,” or things such as “put your shoulders back.” This was the cause of my lack of confidence. As spoken previously, I became a hunchback. This trait of me lasted around a year of my life. It became a true part of me. I never learned to speak to anyone about the reasoning for it, it only lingered.

Love was never a part of my younger life. I never managed to find a girl that I would expect to understand me. Even now, at the time of writing this, I still have never had someone to love. This is truly the most depressing fact of my life. I never really had a person that I could be “me” around, and they would still love me for it. It was this fact that generally still haunts me today. There would be days that I would walk the dog, for example, and maybe see a girl in front of me walking the opposite was and I would only acknowledge their existence but still progress forward without even giving them a side-glance because I knew I would have no chance either way being the unattractive boy I was and am. I do not expect to find love either. When my father and I have our usual conversations about general topics, he would always bring in the subject of “having my own kids.” I never did have the opportunity to say that this would never happen, I know deep down that maybe one day it would but in my everyday thought process, I would not, for I am that type of character that will doubt any good thing that could happen to me. In reality, I would usually comment to myself, “Shit like that just don’t happen to you mate.”

When I was in year nine my once best friend spoke of himself leaving the school he had been in since the beginning, I had got on with him serenely until my mood changed back in year eight. Since that point we became arch-enemies. We hated each other. He was the type of person, who you had to tread carefully with, or else you lose him, and me being me, I lost him. When the day came for him to leave I was rather disheartened but then there came a day where I too wanted to leave the school for somewhere that I believed suited me best.

Times change, nothing can be truly undone.