Innocently in love

1.Fake Wallflower

Welsy

Imagine an old painting in an old house. Sitting in the corner collecting dust. Forgotten about but not really. It's given attention at least once a year during the Christmas cleaning spree. It gets a new frame, dust wiped off and it thrives for that one month.  Again, forgotten. Now replace that painting with a person. And that person with me.

I am a wallflower and I like to be a wallflower. Forgotten and free from any expectations. I can keep on dreaming and imagining, sleeping, and no one objects. Having no friends and a shy timid personality is the best, no one expects you to do anything for them and they think of you as dumb. Do y'all know the number of times I heard world-shattering, tea cup-overflowing gossip? they acknowledge my presence, but still spill the beans like I won't understand shit! That's the best part honestly. I just sit there with my headphones on but no music playing and listen to the conversations on the adjacent table. "GASP! what? Penny B from history is dropping out? What? She is pregnant? Do u think Hamilton is the father?" Honestly, I have no idea who Penny B or Hamilton are but as long as there is gossip and it's not about me!

But, being forgotten also hurts, having no friends also hurts. It's like how no one calls you up to wish you 'Happy Birthday' or 'Merry Christmas'. It hurts. I'm tired.

'Tring Tring' the alarm went off.

I open my eyes and scowl as the sunlight beams into my room and hurts my sensitive eyes. I walk half asleep and look at the mirror in my bathroom. I look like a bloated fish lololol. Well, it's not like anybody is gonna notice. I brush my teeth, make a cup of coffee, and take a bath. Ready to face the day! Oh wait, I almost forgot to feed Garfield. Now ready to face the day!

Today we have a constructive class which basically is a presentation of the progress we have made on finalising our portfolio and after that, we have free time to finish the year-long project. This project is worth half the grade which means 'mess this up and you fail'. So with zero motivation and a dreadingly long day ahead, I wear a hoodie( a black one because paint marks are so cool ) and joggers. a tight messy bun which makes me look bald (hehe so funny ) and Crocs (of course with socks, don't want others to see them toes). My backpack is on and I leave my apartment. I will miss Garfield.

The constructive class got over quickly and then I was to enter four hours of self-criticism and comparisons AND discover new insecurities or complexes I had that I didn't know EVEN existed. I hated how every student here thought of me as a competition. For these 4 hours, I was not invisible. It's weird how all my life I wanted to be noticed but now that I am being noticed I hated it. Well keeping my thoughts aside I enter the studio and unravel my work in progress. I see a grimace on my face when I pick up my phone. The black screen of my phone reflects my dissatisfied face. I connect the headphones and blast 'Could You Love Me While I Hate Myself' by Zeph on repeat. I have these weird fixation phases on songs. I listen to one song on repeat till I get bored with it. weird but me.

The concept I was going for this art piece was forgotten until found. Quite personal or to say so the story of my life. I have been working on this piece since the beginning of the first semester. It was now close to year-end and I could see the forgotten part in the piece but not quite the found part. It was too negative right now and I needed to add subtle hints of hope. Not too much hope to make the piece feel fake but just right, not to overpower the melancholy. That was the goal.

After some mulling over I pick up my tools ready to do SOMETHING if not anything. Thirty minutes or so pass and I hear a loud crash. It was so loud that my headphones could not block it out. I look up from my project to see Maddy gripping her hair, Max standing in the corner of the room filming (shocker *eye-roll*) and Daisy's painting face down on the ground. Daisy was a fine arts major but due to no room in the fine arts studio, she was accommodated into the sculpting studio. As if it wasn't alarming enough, a group of ice hockey players walk in at the scene. It's ridiculous how no one stops them from doing whatever they want. Well, anyway the captain I assume is the guy in the front of the group. He scoops up Maddy like she weighs nothing and is as light as a bunch of feathers and then they all begin leaving. I believed it to be my imagination and ignored it only to meet eyes with one of the guys in the group. He looks at my piece and then at me. fury flares my nostrils. How dare he JUDGE my art when he is nothing but brawls. I whip my face and realise I lost my memento and decided to leave for home. I will do it at night. ALONE.