A State of Mind

Chapter 1

In retrospect, if I had really thought about it, I would have never done what I did. In reality, though, I probably would do it over and over again. Insanity, I think would be the word for it. Pure, utter insanity. It started in high school, really, but too many books start in high school, too many tales of popularity and social-casting. Most intellectual minds would disagree, they would say if you went looking for those kind of books, you would find them, but if you searched for true literary excellence, you would discover a world filled with adventures and romance, a world where high school lovers didn't stand a chance. I agree, but I still think that young adults today might need a little push to get over that phase, one of which, if never crossed, can turn you into a soap-opera watching, bon-bon eating housewife. This of course, doesn't count for males, but I've never lived the life of a male, and I don't see the point.

My mother had always pushed me to become the best I could be, and I was. Top of the form, award-winning, teacher-dazzling princess. I was ready for the real world,  that's what I thought, but 100's in tests and dozens of academic excellence trophies does not, by any means, get you ready for the real world. A world full of economic crisis, wars, and most importantly, work. You would think, if I get excellent grades in high school and in college, I would be best at my job. You are absolutely and disgracefully wrong. It takes skill, and most, at this point in time, have no skill at all but to memorize words on paper and remember how to put things into a sentence. This new generation of music-loving, trend-following, naive little minds would not stand a chance in my world. I can't see where they came from, most come from families with strong backgrounds, struggling history, and times of effort and hard-work. Some say, spoilt parents raise spoilt children, but that is not correct, in any way. These days, parents who were raised right, with hard-work and dedication, still grow up to be extremely bad parents, ones who don't want their children to live like they used to. Ones who can never put their kids out there, in fear of realization that you can't really see the world through a camera lens, or a telephone screen.

I can't complain. About this generation, I mean, about the amount of time children and teenagers these days spend on their phones and laptops, because I wasn't very different. Most parents tell their children about how much work they had to do as a child, that they never had as much help in things that technology helps us in now. Some are true, some really did have to go through hard times, but most, I see now, are liars. Yes, technology has really decreased the intellectual capacity of these kids, but just because we had a lack of technology, doesn't mean we weren't just as lazy, sitting around in bed and probably scribbling on paper or reading useless information that will never help us in our lives. This is what we did, and kids, don't let your parents say otherwise.

To get to my life, I need to stop complaining about how unfair it is that people didn't have to go through what I did. That is impossible, I'm sorry to say, because nothing has really happened to me, and I envy everyone who has things happen to them, adventures of some sort. My life has been relatively unoriginal. I cannot say normal, because I have a thing about normal, and whenever I hear someone describe something with the word 'normal' it makes me cringe and sends me into a phase where I can't really think about anything but that. What is it? What is normal? How is one normal? Are there people who are abnormal? See, this, it will probably put me in a state of mind that will declare me insane for another three days. I suppose this is part of the writing process, going insane for a while.

I may or may not be insane. Some people think I am, but some, very rarely, think I am just lonely. I can't disagree to any of the two choices. Maybe I'm insane and lonely. Maybe I'm just lonely and yearning for someone just as insane as I am. It's quite peculiar. I don't even know what I am. Maybe I'm just a figment of somebody's imagination. I don't know, who am I to think about it? I'm insane.