3:46 PM, Sunday, Feb. 20, 2011
I'm incredibly stressed about 4 unit maths. Maybe it's just this certain topic, but things just don't make sense. Usually, you have a theory, you learn it, and applying it gets the answer. But for some fucking reason, that doesn't work on complex numbers. I just can't get my head around it and it doesn't make sense, and I end up forgetting what I learn two days later. And this fucks me over because I'm not supposedly bad at maths.
Actually just in general, I'm kicking myself for not concentrating more on school. I can't concentrate properly. My mind wanders over way too many things when I should be working, and I think too much on things I shouldn't be thinking of too much right now. Unnecessary things I over-think about:
- made up scenarios which are incredibly unlikely
- my hair growing longer
- clothes
- my appearance in general
- boys
- vampire diaries
- what other people are thinking
- impossible things to make for friends' birthday presents
And that stuff is probably like only 30% of what is floating around in my mind, occasionally prompted by the random shop or the passing cute boy or the crappy MX article, etc. Other times I'm playing mind games with myself--usually 'which would you rather'--because I have no one else to play with, or no one else who will never get bored of that game like I will.
Which reminds me, this whole process of growing up and seeing other people grow up, and trying/wanting to help them, but knowing the only way they can get through it properly is by themselves, all is sort of sad but warm for me.
Then I contemplated for the first time in my life of not having kids. I mean, kids are great... in pictures. Otherwise, they're noisy, expensive, unpredictable. It's like creating a life you don't know if you can control, because I don't think I will be able to ever fully trust them, because even though they are of me, they aren't me. I mean I can understand where the whole over-protective parent thing comes from, and I hate it, but I'll probably do it, so why make another life miserable.
And you know family and friends are completely different entities. With family, you don't see them as who they are, as much as who they are to you. I see them as my brother, my mother, my father. I can't clearly tell what type of personality they have, as someone outside could. With my brother, I wouldn't ever say: he's changed, he's become an ass; because even though he probably has, I'd just associate my brother with being an ass from then on. It becomes a fact. Does this make sense?