I love you.
You have no idea how happy returning to the blogosphere has made me. Yes, I've been posting once in a while, but that's not really blogging. Blogging involves reading and commenting and making friends the rest of the world thinks you're weird for having as they're just on the computer and you never have/never will meet them.
I haven't been doing that, and it makes me sad. Long-promised wifi is yet to be installed at my school, so I am bound self-consciously to the desktops where everyone can see what you're doing and looks down on you if what you are doing consists of anything other than email-checking or work. Not that it shows, people are far too lovely, but they're doubtlessly thinking it. Blogging would look far too superfluous compared to researching the environmental policy of pacific islands and their stance on ecocide being made a crime against humanity (ok, I made that last bit up, but would fit right in).
I've been loving reading your blogs again.
It's like being reunited with friends you've missed, or returning to a library you haven't visited for a while and seeing they have new books you really like, or staying at your grandmother's house and enjoying the distant but solid familiarity of it all.
Through the window of my grandmother's house.
I've got a precious few days of half-term left— I thought it was Thursday today, but it turns out it's Friday.I also still have loads to do.
I don't want to go back to school. Not yet.
I'm so much happier there, in some ways. In some ways, I'm also a lot more sad. I feel it took me a while to work out why, but I knew pretty solidly, it just took me a while to work out what the actuality of what made me feel bad was, and not what I felt it was. I felt everyone was amazing at everything and I was crap. I'm not crap.
I'm just painfully, monotonously, ridiculously average.
- Having two nationalities used to make me interesting. Now, to be interesting, you have to have only one or seven.
- Speaking two languages used to make me clever. Two languages is nothing when surrounded by polyglots fluent in about five.
- I used to be world-informed. I could talk about feminism, about some general international issues. It turns out that I can't give an informed view on foreign policy in the Middle East and China though, or other basic conversational topics.
- I'm spoilt, and I hate it. I got used to consistently being somewhere near the top of the class and resultantly got amazing GCSE results. Now, with people substantially better than me and struggling with my subjects in a more notable way than I have for years, I'm having a hard time.
- I was "arty". I had a blog, could wear interesting clothes, was good at art, etc. Now? I'm too self-conscious to update my blog, have fallen into the widespread habit of prioritising comfort in the form of jeans and a hoodie, no longer take art, etc.
And yet. I go to school in a castle, on a scholarship. I can see the sea from my front doorstep, a doorstep I share with people from 30 other nationalities. I have my dream life, I have no right to complain.
Through the window of one of my train-rides. I have a feeling on the way back from the open day, over a year ago.
Back to the point. Thanks. Seeing Gwendolen and friends again has been wonderful. So has reading of Chloe's thoughts and realising I'm not alone in my worrying about fitting in, or Hannah's pictures, or Ella's links to amusing videos, or Tara's clear and interesting posts, or Cassie's reviews, or so on and so forth with all of you I haven't mentioned but really appreciate. Goodness, if someone did read over my shoulder at school they would think I'm a friendless hermit, an Internet-based recluse.
Oh, that's the other thing. I live in a house with 50 other people. My naturally introverted self is forced to socialise.
I AM BEING MADE TO TALK TO REAL PEOPLE. A LOT.
Hiding in my room with a book all day wouldn't go down very well, not that I don't really want to do so anyway. They're lovely, interesting people, but my brain is not geared for so much social interaction.
A screenshot of my Tumblr.
I think who you are depends on who surrounds you. Whether you're a foreigner or a native, clever or not, average or interesting. What you perceive yourself to be can change in a blink if you change those with which you spend time, without having actually changed in yourself. It's difficult.
Thanks for blogging. I enjoy reading your blogs, I only hope ours acts in some similar way to yours.
Much love, and I am determined to post more interesting things again. I'll be back!
PS. The pictures and line spacing are being weird and pissing me off, but my techno-wizard skills are not up to scratch.