Can this still be called living?

Something disturbing has been racing through my mind these last few days.

I'm disgusted with the "lives" of all the Southside IB-ers.

I realize this is a strong statement, but I do feel this way.

We came to the IB for one of two reasons:

1. Our Parents wanted us to.
2. It's the "best" school system.

Our Parents.

The driving force behind all our studying.

The people that want the "best" for us.

The prideful souls that want us to "shine".

The source of the bruises on our body.

Sometimes I wonder if they have hearts. Sometimes I wonder if we can even call them parents, if not dictators. We live in "respect" of them, which basically translates to fear.
We are on a chopping block constantly.
We are bred to please them, to give them happiness.
We are abused when we don't achieve perfection.

Are we children or are we animals?

I can't tell anymore.
Even if we deliver "perfection", most get a grunt of approval, no, acknowledgment.
We cast away all other necessities to "better" ourselves, and to receive their approval.
We give up our weekends, our friends, hell, we even give up our souls sometimes to study our lives away.

All for what?
So they don't hit us?
So they don't yell at us?
So they finally acknowledge us for the human beings we are?

Is this healthy?

Can this be considered a life?

We give up so much.
We give up sleep.
We give up looks.
We give up comfort.
We give up friends.
We give up freedom.
We give up so much, just to appease our parents.







Do we even exist outside of these "lives"?





I have come to realize these things the past few days after sitting back and watching us.

I suppose we are ants.

We work, work, work.

I feel bad for ourselves.

All of this just to be able to check the box on our college applications that reads

[ ] IB Diploma Candidate

I'm disgusted.

Just one of those days.

Have you ever had one of those days were you get out of bed at an ungodly hour in the morning, crawl to the nearest bathroom, look at the mirror, and do a double take because you don't believe that hideous sight you are staring at is you?

Well today was one of those days. I got up, took a shower, and then threw on some clothes.

Then the whole morning I was so mellow that people started to ask me what's wrong. In all honesty I thought that I was acting normal. Apparently I was so spaced out that I didn't even notice when people were talking to me.

It's not that there is anything wrong with me, I just didn't give a crap about what people thought of me. So I might of been snappy or spaced out, but I was just in a very apathetic/lazy mood.

Lethargy can kill, you know.

Are we just curious?

Have you ever overheard a snippet of a conversation, and wanted to know the rest?
Have you ever talked to someone, said a sentence, only to have the person ask you to repeat it?
Have you ever gotten the reply of "Just never mind" when you asked them to repeat it?

Why?

Why are we so curious?

Is it really that important what that person had to say?

If that person says never mind, why do we ask again?





Are we really that scared of missing a piece of information from our lives?



Is it vital to us?
Why is it that we are so curious?
Are we really that hungry for information, even if the end it could hurt us?

The human mind is a strange thing. Some minds have an insatiable need for information, others could care less about knowledge. We all have a curiosity. We are terrified of not knowing the same things that our friends know, in fear of becoming left out. It isn't even that we have to know what that information is, it is just that we want to fit in. It is like we are programmed to do things that will make us "popular" or conformed. We are so dependent on our friends, and so scared of not being liked by them anymore that we would do almost anything just to hear that information again, to know the same things as others.

Why are we so desperate to be liked?

The Me behind the mask

So I've decided to take up blogging.

A few might wonder things like:

"Really? Jakob blogging?"

or

"Jakob has thoughts in that brain of his?"

or

"What is up with the URL and the name?"

Well good people I will tell you.
This may sound strange or strike you as different, but the name literally translates to "Dance of Masks".
I am not who you think I am. Those few unlucky souls who have seen the real me were surprised and taken back at first. I am not a generally happy person. I worry, I cry, I feel sorry for myself, just like any other person. I am perceived as a lovable ray of happiness most times, with generally nothing on my mind. This is not the case.

This is a mask.

This may strike many of you as weird, but I believe that we all have them. We can all put on a smile, fake a tear, force a look of pleasantry across our face.

I've decided to put my thoughts out on the table, bear with me, they will be bizarre and odd.

You will be surprised if you don't know the "true" me.

Watch me change your perception of me.

Watch me change you.