high school hell; versechoruskillmealready
11/3/23; 9:58pm
another day of theater. lets see how well this one went.
10:40- school gets out
12:00- work starts
4:00- dinner break
6:00 - bathroom break
8:45- leave theater early (it actually ends at 9:10)
i wish it was really just that simple.
theater has been getting harder and harder to survive in. the more i think about it, the more i realize how bullshit the bohemain, band of outcasts depiction of theater students is. it's just as cliquey, catty, and disgusting as sports or geeks or whatever other scapegoat 'theater kids' can pin blame on.
today i had to get to school at 6, start theater at 12, and stop working at 9 (with one or two breaks sprinkled in for food, obviously).
by the end of it, i was too tired to even move. but i was filled with rage. The more objection I expressed to working 7 straight hours in one day, the more my manager wheedled away at me subtly: Do you REALLY want to go home? Do you have any work you need to do? (Spoiler alert- I didn't. No work was assigned to me, and according to the other members of my crew, they're still struggling to even find me a position)
what kind of a question is that when i've been at school 15 STRAIGHT HOURS???? maybe I don't want to stay at school any longer, not because I'm soooo sad to leave my beloved theater friends, but because I'm too tired to make coherent sentences and I'd rather go home and sleep? Does that make me a bad worker? Bad teammate?
*sigh* listen, I accepted I'd have to do lots of work for theater, but the dismissive attitude just pisses me off. It's like no matter how hard I work, if i let it show, i'm a whiner. and I'm not even getting paid. I can't wait to become an adult, go into the workforce, and face even more wheedling and needling and passive-aggressive anger - but this time, if I complain, it's at the cost of my job and house.
but the idea that theater kids are more artsy, more creative, liberal and accepting, is sheer fan-fiction. They're all about preaching acceptance and yet their social attitudes haven't moved an inch away from generic, milquetoast ideas of 'free love' and 'diversity' and 'found family' bullshit.
as far as im concerned, its a ploy to keep us trapped in the stone age.
hypocrisy
back to the idea of 'the bohemian socialite theater kid'. Today, I had an argument with my stage-crew head. There was a freshman in our group that offhandedly mentioned he'd like a name change; it felt too plain, he didn't like it, he'd rather go by one he chose himself, etc.
I encouraged him to try one out. It's theater after all. We're full of transgendereds and plain eccentrics. but my friend disagreed.
He argued, basically, that by changing your name, or not accepting it, you were 'breaking apart your identity'- that by rejecting your given name, you were learning to hate yourself.
I challenged him: why this belief? Anyone can be given any name at birth: we only live once, why should we constrain ourselves to a label that is unfitting at best and uncomfortable at worst?
his response was harsh: by rejecting your given name, you learn to hate yourself. Your name is a part of your core identity, and if you change it t o 'feel better', the resentment and self-loathing will remain. You can't run from self-hatred forever, and by changing your name, instead of 'working on yourself', it's just putting a bandaid on it.
The real radical act of self expression, love and acceptance is accepting what was given to you by your parents, what is innate and unchangeable, apparently.
As I stated in my last entry, I'm really glad I didn't come out as trans to these guys........
but yeah, the idea that theater kids are inherently more socially progressive is bullshit. i've met my fair share of racist, transphobic, just plain rude theater kids.theyre awful quick to call their peers retards, schizos, fatherless, etc. so much for being more progressive and accepting than the other people in the school.
what is innate.. what is unchangeable.. even the theater kids can't seem to move past that. social conventions are still unchangeable, the mentally ill, impoverished, fat and ugly are still easy targets.
quitting?
i only started journaling after theater. if i quit theater, would i stop writing my thoughts down in so mcuh detail? i can't bear to let go of anything. i hoard receipts , small notepads well after use has concluded, bottle caps, anything that may be ephemeral, may only exist now never to be seen again.
If I hate theater so much, why don't i just quit? part of it is feeling like ihaven't suffered enough.my friends are getting through without complaining. maybe there's something just wrong with me and myself alone. everyone else gets it, so why cna't i? why can't I just grin and bear it? how am i going to survive like this?
it's just 2 more weeks. I'm a good student. I can push through. It's a group effort, and we can get pizza after.
hard to be so excited when i'm so depressed and tired, though.
two more weeks! two more weeks! two more weeks! two more weeks! two more weeks two more weeks two more weeks twomoreweeks two more weeks two more weeks twomoreweekstwomoreweekstwomoreweekstwomoreweeks
losing myself
i can't bring myself to ramble here. I don't want to lose what's dear to me. I don't want to change too much. i want to keep the good parts of me, and do away with the bad, but what i see as bad sometimes benefits my friends. I'm rather blunt, and they like that, but i hate it because it makes me blurt out a lot. I just want to be quirky, but not quirky to the point where i am ostracized. i want to retain a healthy sense of skepticism, but my refusal to just believe and comply harms me more than helps me. i find myself helpless, paralyzed, instead mindlessly taking steps forward with no idea where those steps will lead. I don't want to die anymore, but instead i find myself doing things without really knowing why, or even if i want to . none of that matters anymore.
because at its heart, if i lived the life i really wanted to, or could, that'd require the entire world change to smoe extent. that'd mean not only my parents, my friends, btu the world would have to consider being more empathetic and critical.
everyone fears the other, portraying a group as simultaneously complacent yet querulous when they speak up.
ok, fine this is about transgenderism again and my inability to maintain relationships again, ok? you found it. are you happy?
maybe one day, i can do away with all the pesky frustrations of personality, and accept my role and position as woman, as subordinate, as uninteresting and unthoughtful. hack and peel away the frustrating flaws of my personality. be normal, be able to hold conversation normally.
voyeurism
one of my friends noted i was really perceptive of peoples physical traits. It's cuz i stare a lot at them.
for a myriad of reasons: 1 , to draw them. they're so different and i like practicing with real subjects, who are sometimes more diverse in shape than even cartoons and 2) i like thikning gabout what other people think about , wish for , value, etc.
Whenever i see someone quiet, hesitant to talk, I always go up to them and try to strike up conversation. That's how i met one ofmy best friends of all time, who understands my obsessions and quirks and little disgusting personality nightmares. I like to hope that i can get through to some people: you are not alone. but not in a corny way. I won't judge you if you act a little weird.
People call me nice. people call me perceptive. maybe im treating real people like spectacles , but i can't help it. i'm just so curious. Do you think like me? Do you have things you can't tell anyone? Do you have a girlfriend? Do you like video games? Are you , too, obsessed with a particular type of marine gastropod? How's your home life? I wonder how you manage to eat. I wonder how you manage to sleep, walk, talk in that body. Do you hate yourself? I like how your face looks like the guy on the cover of Aphex Twin. I wonder if you hate yourself like I do. I wish you would hate yourself like I do. I hope you're like me. Please.
anyways, my tendency to treat people considered annoying, strange, etc as potential lab rats, to try and gain a more full comprehension for the people around me i canc't understand, is usually construed as empathy. i guess it is, in its own strange little way.
I feel bad for that freshman. the name change was never just about appearances: i could sense the little bits of resentment laying inside that face frozen in uncontrollable grin. how has noone picked up on it? it was never aobut the name. it was never just about the name. Nothing regarding identity is just about surface presentations. it's usually a reflection of something someone can't bear to tell fully about themselves.
i hate how we're expected to know ourselves as we are in our current state, and if we suspect anything out of the ordinary, it's like.
a lot of mentally ill people will never admit they are depressed, they are suicidal, because they don't see it as that. everyone thinks of things differently. a lot of trans people never admit they want to be girls, want to be men, want to be nothing, but instead live with a constant allergic brain rash of self-hatred and horrible rage.
It was never just about the name, you idiot.
staring/what is innate
11:05 pm
so today i went during dinner break to get fried chicken. the fries were better than the chicken. it felt kind of awkward standing in a restaraunt. but this girl showed up too, so then it was even more awkward.
I went up to order my 6pc bucket of fries and chicken. but when i went to input my name, i hesitated. it didn't feel like my own. but i was with my theater mates, and i knew it wouldn't make sense if i used a male name.
It was an easy decision.
did she want to put in a different name, too? a test-run? test the world a little bit?
how the fuck am i supposed to know? we don't even talk. yet every time we make eye contact, or she asks me for a screwdriver, a chair, a pencil, an unknowable feeling rises up inside me. a sense of satisfaction, but not like, romance or anything. We share something in common and you don't even know it. You wouldn't care if you knew it. we are as different as night and day. and yet, somewhere out there, just right next to where I work, there is someone just like me. that thought runs through me every time i so much as catch a glimpse of her.
the very feeling of knowing fills me with wanting, with jealousy, with rage, with sadness. wondering what runs through that unmoving face of hers, other than mild surprise or glee, caught for just a frame. when she asks, 'can i borrow some batteries?' i am filled with unknowable shame and hatred. i am a voyeur in the worst sense. i project my feelings onto someone that couldn't care less if i existed or not. do you feel the way I do? do you feel? and if so, what? (300 words minimum)
when i see other trans people i feel angry and jealous.
as we waited for our orders, i zoned out. being in the very presence of her stressed me out. i couldn't keep my thoughts straight. i tried to make distracting small talk with the others, wondering 'maybe she thinks im a freak for getting 6pc of fried chicken.' she was also getting a 6pc of fried chicken.
i just wanted her to notice me. i don't know why. i just wanted her to stare at me a little.so i pulled out my trick card. my blue eyes white dragon.
I started talking about rpgs. From back when i was a profoundly irritating freshman, I remembered her obsession with strategy rpgs. For the next 20 minutes , waiting for my order, I tried to recall any and every game of [redacted], as many generic strategy games i could imagine, even though i had fallen out of strategy games years ago. I turned around, and,
and she was staring intently , at me, and , and
i stood to get my order and leave. i was sweating buckets the entire time. i couldn't even move my feet. It was like i was once again paralyzed , rooted to the floor, for seemingly no reason. I was shaking. what's going on?
Past me, I'd like to interrupt you here. What's the allure of befriending this person that knows nothing but mild dislike, presumably, towards you, when you could try to reach out to your (already tired , resentful, and longing for company) friends with who you are faiiling to maintain relatinoships with? Why do you care about this person so much?
Is it because you hardly konw her, so you project the idea of the perfect woman onto her, when in reality you know little to nothing about this persons actual character beyond a doctors' note of self-listed pain? when you'll probably be let down when an actual flesh-and-blood person turns out to be much unlike the image you've projected in your mind, of an all-encompassing support group that you don't have? why not just talk to your friends, who are in desperate need of your support right now? what are you doing? why are you doing this? everything's been going fine, but ive just been pushing myself. imve just been pushing myself. ivejust been pushing myself, and nothing has actually happened.
i wish i could answer that question. i'm sorry. im sorry i'm even thinking these thoughts at you.
when i hear your friends, baseball-obsessed athletes, dnd geeks , and computer fanatics casually reference you as a girl in conversation, i feel so jealous i want to explode. I wish you knew how much your friends cared about you. how they go out of their way to emphasize how much happier you are now that you're out.
it's 11:50. what a giant waste of time. i have a 6-hour shift tommorow. at this rate, all i can hope for is a swift end to theater.
